you & i

twelve » multiplication

dear infinity,

have you ever seen a shooting star? have you seen one grazing the late night sky, disappearing just as quickly as it appeared?

sometimes i think you are my shooting star. i know i've called you many things, but sometimes i fear that you're as temporary as my wish upon that star. that, someday, i'll blink and you'll have disappeared into the night. are my fears unfounded?

i think they probably are. there is no way i'll let you go, not after this night, not after that kiss. you were, for lack of a better word, perfect tonight. i know you always are, but somehow, if this is even possible, you were more perfect than i'd ever seen you before. perhaps it was in the smell of your citrusy perfume or the feel of your fingers playing with the hair at my nape or the taste of your lips against mine. whatever it was, you never cease to amaze me.

was tonight all right? i have to admit that i'm a bit worried. we shared our first kiss under the stars as i'd always wanted, but the night had been pretty ordinary regardless. were you impressed? are you disappointed? the only significance a starlit sky has in our relationship is that we had been stargazing—or, more accurately, venus-gazing—the first night we actually spent time together. but perhaps that night never meant anything to you?

i hope i didn't make a fool of myself as i fumbled with my keys after another awkward exchange with your father and brother. however, i'm almost positive i heard your brother laughing at my temporary clumsiness. i was sure to open your door first and let you climb in, and your brother stopped me before i went to open my own door.

he called out from the porch, asking me again if i was serious about you. i answered that of course i was. and i am. a girl like you, infinity, can only accept true devotion. and i told him that. the smile he gave me was undecipherable, as if it was hiding something important. then he asked me if you were serious about me. i replied truthfully, that i didn't know but also that it didn't matter. i'll wait until we're both on the same page.

i brought you to my favorite spot again, but this time, i remembered to bring blankets and food and candles. we spent a good hour or two just talking, which was admittedly nice. sometimes i wish i could talk to you more, about the things that really matter to me. someday we'll get there.

once we exhausted all conversation and fell into silence, the fluttering in my stomach began again. i know we've been dating for a few weeks now, but there are still times when you look at me and i feel as nervous as i was during our second encounter.

sometime in the midst of the silence, you murmured something under your breath. i leaned in to hear you better, and you mentioned how beautiful the sky was. i answered in agreement and turned to you with a smile. i almost jumped away when i realized how close you were, honestly. one look at you and suddenly i couldn't speak or think or even breathe. the only thing i was aware of was your proximity, and i had already leaned down and captured your lips with mine before i realized what was happening.

i hope our first kiss wasn't sloppy. i hadn't planned it beforehand or even given it much thought, so it was purely something that happened in the heat of the moment. i really do hope that the kiss wasn't bad, and i really can't remember the fine details of it because there were too many thoughts racing through my mind at once to even notice anything besides the fact that you are heavenly. you were smiling when we pulled away for air, however, so i like to think you enjoyed it.

i remember looking up at the sky just after our kiss in time to see a shooting star. you didn't seem to notice it, but i quickly made a wish on it anyway. i don't want to tell you my wish in fear of my wish not being granted. besides, i'm sure you already know what i wished for.

love,
beyond