I think it’s funny when people say they are in love with someone they’ve never actually been with.
To be in love is to try to stifle laughter late at night when everyone else is asleep.
It’s nothing I could ever describe, yet when I think about it,
I picture us in your bed late at night, looking each other in the eyes, and laughing.
I’m wearing your boxers and a t-shirt. I don’t have any makeup on, and my hair is a tangled mess. You’re not wearing a shirt and my feet are by your face, elbows propping us up.
You grab my legs as you throw your head back and silently giggle.
Then the laughter roars out. The room is dark with only the light from the tv illuminating our faces.
You can’t go one minute without touching me. Your leg is on my body, your hand on my calf, your cheek on my ankle. You kiss the top of my foot and we talk about things, past present and future.
When I close my eyes I see you, I smell you, I feel you. You’re always warm, and I push your legs away, as if you tease me by being funny.
No, I don’t know what we’re laughing at, and neither do you. But what we both DO know is that we’re so happy, that 20 years from now, when this moment is long over and our faces fade,
The memory of this will live in our hearts, and the laughter will sink into our cheeks, creating wrinkles where love once existed.