Yosemite & You #ToAllTheBoysContest

Yosemite & You

Dearest,

Every day starts the same.

It's  7:49 A.M.

I'm worried, angsty.

School's in eleven minutes.

"Where are you?" I fret.

Then, at the end of the street, I see your car with its flaking paint and rusty bumper creaking around the corner. A wave of relief passes over me. Relaxing my shoulders, I walk out to the car and hop in.

I buckle my seatbelt and prepare my most scornful tirade regarding your ever consistent tardiness. I take a deep breath in.

My mistake.

There it is: the musk vanilla aroma of the Jeffrey pine.

Alas, my frustration melts into pure bliss. I try to remind myself that it's only your cologne.

Too late though.

There I am, lounging underneath the woody branches, gazing out to the chiseled valley walls towering high.

You raise your eyebrow, cocking your head.

How though, could I not see you in the land where my heart resides?

Shoot, I should stop staring.

I turn, closing my eyes, and take in another deep breath.

I. Still. See. You.

We begin to talk. "We" meaning you talking and me attempting to. I cannot equal your words. Beautiful, powerful, they are the falls which pound on the Valley's floor

I stretch my clenched hands down in an attempt to calm myself.

My palm dips into the Tuolumne River when I accidentally graze your hand, clutched on the stick. A surging chill runs up my arm that fills my entire being. My skin tingles, heart races. I feel a new rush of tantalizing warmth. The floodgates open in my pale cheeks and the heat encroaches. Trying to hide it, I bury my burning face in my hands. 

My secret desire is inexorable.

Just being next to you is gazing off the Point. The fear of falling, falling for you, standing on the precipice, is overwhelming. I know I must control my emotions, but your world, this view, is unparalleled. I see the grandeur of all the Valley 3,200 feet below: the developed and the undeveloped, the known and the unknown, the past and the future.

Could falling into such divinity be so deplorable?

3,200 feet.

I look again into your eyes.

It's as if I hear the campfire's crackle underneath the star-lit sky. The ranger's enthused voice booms while recounting the triumphs and tragedies of lore. He paces back and forth in the orange light, rubbing his hands back and forth, then placing his palms to the heat.

I want to know your triumphs.

I want to know your tragedies.

I want to feel that fire blazing in your soul.

I want to fall.

I open my mouth, ready to say it.

3

2

1

"I love..."

"We're here!"

My mouth snaps shut, fantasy obliterated, heart ripped open by an astray Miwok arrow.

We exit the car.

"See you tomorrow," you wink.

And there it is.

The radiant alpenglow.

The bit of faith I cling to. 

If you only knew.

I love you,

mielja