not much

we eat breakfast from the same plate. for the first day in hours i haven't questioned this i have with him. we share a bed and a table and we tell each other stories and we wonder out loud about the way we touch and i know the way he looks at me complicates our understanding of that we discuss. we talk and talk sometimes about each other, often about ourselves, mostly we coexist and this makes it so easy. i am vulnerable, he is insecure. i am worried and he is nervous, but i calm him and when he leaves i feel my heart start to break, i brace myself for a quick recovery then he finds me. for the first time i get out of the house and we rediscover eachother with impeccable timing, we find the serendipitious and he comments that we look romantic and i shake my head and seem distracted and it's because i really really am. in my head i am considering all the wonders and wreckages that have made this and after registering 100 different thoughts within the minute i conclude at the end of that moment that this conversation leads us home to bed together again or apart - whichever frame we sleep we are left to answer these questions alone without having together come to any better understanding of what is between us. everyday the same thing, predictable, riviting, anxiety-causing as sexually stimulating and we wait, and everyday more deep than the one before. i take cues from his calls, my body melts, my muscles are relaxed and i realize that my entire being has following suit, i have completely given him my weight trusting that enough to look into his eyes when i talk 3 centimeters from his face, lock my arm with his when he holds his elbow out to cue me, creep finger by finger into that large hand of his until our hands are tightly interlaced.