There's Something About Mary

She asked me who is the one that loves more; the one with a bigger heart that loves so much, or the one with a smaller heart but that loves with every piece of it. I'm stuck wondering with my breath taken away, wondering what kind of a screenwriter set up our conversation. She sits on the line, expressionless - like always - but that look in her dilated wide browns screams more emotion than any single word could. Somehow people wonder how I managed to fall in love with someone they believe to be so cold. If only they knew. No, actually, I hope they don't - I want this to myself.

The city looks so much more beautiful with her voice narrating what I see. I'm just left wondering what kind of a hack destiny is for giving me such large emotions on such a young heart. Timing is everything; it's not about the right person. It's about the right time. You're giving me a fish pole without teaching me how to fish. You're giving me the wheel without teaching me how to drive. You're giving me a heart without giving me time to love.

She lays with her head on my collarbone, and my ever self-conscious mind remains worried of how comfortable she may be. If only my bones were softer. If only I could just mold to her shape of preference just to keep her here, forever. Her skin glistens, but I'm not quite sure it's only the light around us; there's something about her porcelain skin that makes her glow. And her fingers, slowly leading mine to where she wants them to be, playing with each of their counterparts before resting intertwined on her chest. I try to stop my breathing, maybe that way I wouldn't feel how I am pushing her away with every breath I'm taking. If she could read minds, she'd know that the she was the only reason I was breathing in the first place. My hand slowly strokes her left side, and she turns and whispers that I'm making her nervous. Maybe she noticed she was actually making me nervous just by looking at my eyes. I feel my chest tremble, and I worry it's annoying her. Suddenly my subtle heartbeats become tremors. I can't breathe, but it's not because I am 13,313 feet above sea level anymore. She turns her head and tilts it forward, closing her eyes. My blood boils, and my heart begins to pump out air. My head gets empty and my chest relives itself. My hands feel a close grasp, and the blackness of my shut eyes develops life and color around me. There is nothing else in this world, but the complete everything that she is. With her lips, she has killed me. With her lips, she has given my life. With her lips, she has become everything tonight.