if i could hold you

to you,

it's been a while, hasn't it—one month of avoiding conversation regarding you, or your friends, and a month to rediscover a piece of myself that i thought remained so dormant that it would never appear ever again. i wonder if you've moved on from me, if you still resent me, for everything i had done to destroy you; after all, you adamantly chose to refuse to believe me with every comment i made about myself being the worst influence comprehensible to date.

yet, i suppose, perhaps that was what made me fall for you—how your sweet words of reassurance and unyielding optimism could make me weak in the knees when you persisted in defending me in the presence of your friends, especially the one with the long mullet, because i could never recall when he was incorrect about me. i miss the way your large hands would fall into mine under the moonlight peeking through my windows, rocking me back and forth as if i was child seeking comfort from her parents.

i always envision what our date would appear to be—i would ask for you to drive your 1975 chevrolet convertible to santa monica, and you would let me drape my feet on the dashboard and listen to our playlist of songs that only i would ever understand the true meaning behind, because they weren't in your native language. though, you never minded whenever i did sing at the top of my lungs to songs you had never heard of, despite your jocular insistence i audition for some rigged variety show on television.

you would yell at me with your baritone, husky voice the very moment i could dash my bare feet against the sand that would brush upwards and hit your angular face, the bright, beating sun highlighting the acne on your cheekbones. you would reflexively catch the poncho that I shed, and i can visualize your infectious grin as i rushed into the salty ocean—a month ago, you knew i did everything to hide my figure from you, but again, a timely bout of self-discovery does some wonders.

as the sun would begin to mellow away into pinks and purples and indigos, you would lace your arms protectively around my waist, tugging the poncho over my head as you attempted to singlehandedly win me the largest teddy bear on display at the carnival (and i have no shortage of doubt that you would). you might even endure your acrophobia for me just once, sitting on the ferris wheel and sharing a kiss with me before you could drive us off into the night, hand on my thigh as I dozed off, and spending the evening with me, falling asleep to the hunger games for the umpteenth time.

you realize that five hundred words will never convey the full extent of my emotions of apology and love towards you—perhaps, someday, i hope you'll forgive me for my shortcomings.

i love you, forever and always,

akanen hatanaka