Green

"What's on your mind, love?"

I lean against you to let you know that  I'm trying to think. There's a lengthy process in my mind before anything comes out of mouth.

What's on my mind?

I don't know. I am almost completely content just to hear your voice, to be with you, to take your hand and know you won't mind. You might even like it. You probably will, but I pretend you just don't mind so that when you take my hand first I bubble up with a surprise happiness.

What am I thinking of?

I... I like your smile. You should smile more often. I think you and I should go on a walk and you should tell me that you really want to be with me and you're not doing it out of guilt. I'm thinking about how small and stupid I feel when I want to hug you but all I know how to do is stand dumb and keep my mouth shut. I'm thinking about wishing you would tell me you want nothing more than to hold me forever and ever and tomorrow. I'm thinking.

I know you love me, just say it again because I'll never get tired of hearing it. And I love you too. I love you more than words can say. You can't beat that. Heh.

Years are such a bothersome way to measure time. Time is a line, stretching from forever to forever, and maybe, if you want, you and I could share a little bit of forever. If you wanted to. You know. If you wanted to go psycho and stab me multiple times and tell me you hated the blood that gave me life, I'd probably let you do that. If you wanted to.

Because if you went psycho and murdered me, at least I'd be dead and not living for the rest of my forever knowing you hated me and that I was annoying you with my helpless little attempts of affection.

That's not really very funny.

I'm thinking about how very much I've missed you lately, and how sorry I am for being shy around you when I don't have to be. I'm sorry for wanting you to hold me so much. I'm sorry for wanting you to tell me you'd hold me forever.

Heh.

I'm sorry for being such a silly girl.

I'm like a broken robot who isn't supposed to have emotions. I'm trapped with my arms waving frantically, with only one way of expressing a need for communication. I can see all those images of me laughing at my more robot-self, and then my daydream ends with my robot-self being pumped full of lead and falling over in a sad little heap.

I die a lot in my daydreams.

Really, it's not funny, but I know how to laugh at it. I watch too many bad cartoons. Heh. Sorry.

And I love you.

Remember.

More than words.

And that's saying something. I am the master of unsaid words. The queen. I'm a queen.

I want to be with you.

"What's on your mind, love?"

I smile, and look up to your eyes, which are a lot higher than mine.

"I like the color green..."