Gravel and Moonlight

Sometimes, late at night,
I allow my mind to wander,
over the rolling hills of emerald,
through shimmering valleys of endlessness,
up mountains so steep I feel as though the incline will kill me,
across roaring rivers even though I can't swim;
and that's when I find you.

And all this time you've been waiting.
Just for me.
Waiting for me to arrive.
With your magic, glowing eyes,
and your magnificent, mesmerizing smile,
with a voice like gravel and moonlight
you say, "What took you so long?"

And in your presence, I can't even speak
Even though I'm dying to tell you how much
you mean to me.
That I have been trying to find you for so long.
That the thought of you makes me feel
as though the world was meant for no one but the two of us.
I want to tell you that you are life
and breathe you in forever.

But I fail to say anything
and it's okay with you.
You make a spot for me beside you
and allow me to take a seat, put your arm around me,
whisper in my ear so softly,
"It's about time you got here."
And it is in this moment that I truly feel happy.
It is in this moment that I truly feel my heart shatter.

Because you are nothing more than a dream
and everyone knows that dreams rarely come true.
Stupidly, I allow myself to hold onto that rarely
because rarely means that there's a chance.
Rarely doesn't mean never.

Sometimes, when the moon is starting to
sleep for the day,
I allow my mind to wander.
And in its wanderings it always manages to find you.
Sitting, on a blanket of silver,
in the darkness, your smile outshines the sun,
in your eyes there is nothing but love.
Love directed at me.
Love belonging to me.

So, during the day,
while I try to hide the fact you haunt me,
I look for you.
Search for you.
Any way I can.
Stupidly holding onto to this dream
of the one who might not even exist.
Because rarely doesn't mean never.

"It's about time you got here."
Gravel and moonlight.