If you ever want to be in love...

I can't stop this overwhelming desire to kiss your face and steal every piece of you with my innocent and lonely hands. I want to steal your hiding places, your favorite songs and simple smile. I want to scrape away the pains you feel. I want to toss your darkest memories to the hungry wind and peel away the scars you think have become you. I'm not waiting, I'm just saying if you ever want to be in love, I'll come around and warm your cold lonely hands out of their confusion. All I feel is the warmth your heart brings me. I want to feel it all the time, to press my beating heart against yours and watch the way they chase each other into beautiful madness. I can't get over you, James Dean. I don't understand where the ceaseless thoughts about you come from and why they can never leave me, but I do know they make me happy, even when they make me sad. Even when they hurt me, I'm happy.

You don't even understand the willingness I have to fall in love with you and let you be in love, if you want to. I could hold your hand forever, in this moment, happily plagued by the thought of you.
You are beautiful.
You are wonderful.
You're a dream I can't wake up from.
I haven't even kissed you before and I know how happy I could be with you. I don't need much to be inspired--the world inspires me just by existing. Kind of like you.
I know I'm quiet. I know I don't say as much as I ought to. I know I stare at the thoughts I wish I could say long enough to keep them silent. I know I'm a terrible wallflower petrified by the thoughts I wish more than breathing I could let escape me. But if you could hear the things I'm too afraid to say, if you could feel the way my heart races when I think about you let alone see your face, there's no way you couldn't understand that I love you. I love you purely, innocently, whole-heartedly. Some may wonder how that can be. How can I love the boy who is miles away probably drifting his thoughts upon tides of other girls, other places? Different faces that don't at all resemble my own? I guess I believe in a better world. I guess I believe in a love that deserves someone special, someone who watches and understands, listens, more than they speak words or breathe air. I guess I'm seeking for a love that is seeking for me too.

Is it true? 

Can two hands really find each other through the dark empty air between them? 

Can love really be mine someday? 

I truly believe that what Rumi said is true, "What you are seeking for is seeking for you too." So can it be? Can I seek someone truly and purely and hard enough that they will do just the same for me? These are the things I think of when I'm driving in the car and the sun is soft and rosy in my hair and cheeks, and the world seems soft and slow and sleepy all around. Birds sing and my heart sighs softly with them as thoughts like these begin to pillow my everyday thinking. 

Today I fell asleep on a thin grey couch that was long and narrow even for my tiny bones. I was as asleep in house that is not my own as I could be (which of course was not at all). As I slept and let the echo of a nostalgic song rumble within me, a thought so gentle overwhelmed me: I imagine I'm actually asleep for real on this very grey couch, eyes shut into a daydream of a world I do not know, a better world where I am not hurt and lonely, and suddenly he is there rumbling my foreign world into reality, where he kisses my cheek, slips his arms around me tightly like a letter threatening an escape to the fierce wind, and he wakes me up to a feeling of peacefully being wanted. Then it hits me--this is what love is like. It's like the act of falling asleep and waking up are the same process. It's like the fine line between reality and dreaming is disintegrated and the act of breathing is shared between someone other than yourself. 

But I'm a head of myself, as usual. Just seeking for a day that has not come, not yet anyway. 

I guess the point of this post is an invitation really to you, James Dean. If you ever wanna be in love, if you ever want to know what unconditional love could be like, if you ever want to be woken up on a thin grey couch while you dream of a better world, just find me. Say my name softly. Sing my favorite song in the kitchen to yourself. Kiss my cheek and I'm already there. It's that simple and that courageous. What do I honestly know about being in love other than it's truly the only thing my heart yearns for and simply cannot live without? What do I honestly know, except that I love you?
What do wallflowers really know?
-k.p.b. 

(Inspired by: "If You Ever Want to Be in Love" by: James Bay; "Just Hold On, W'e're Going Home" by: Drake)