I Think I Am In Like With You

I was sitting on the beach one night, having a great conversation about life and love and everything else that truly matters when you abruptly sat up, stared at the ocean, and told me the following story: “One thing I’ve always wanted, like if I could have a superpower or something, would be to make the ocean invisible – not like the disappearing kind of invisible, but see through. I guess that’s it. I want to be able to see what’s going on in there. If the ocean was invisible, we could see right down deep, all the fish swimming around, dolphins, whales, turtles… How cool would that be?”

You slowly turned and you looked at me, curious to hear my thoughts, but all that I could muster was a slowly stuttered, “Oh… my… God.”

I was blown away. You, and that idea of yours, caught me completely off guard and while there are other ideas that would surely have such an effect on me, this was a forceful gust into my being, a hurricane gale blown deep into the soul of my heart. As I sat happily on the beach, momentarily battered and broken by your simple thought, I had no idea why I was so taken aback or what caused it. You sideswiped me. A hit and run. I couldn’t figure out how that happened.

All I knew was that I wanted more.

And that’s why I like you.

How do I know I like you? Because I could write you a beautiful love letter. Well, actually, I don’t love you, not yet, so I guess I can’t really write you a love letter, but I could write you a like letter that would melt a small piece of your heart. I’m certain about this. That’s how I know I like you and that’s how I know I need you in my life – because I need someone around me who makes me think about writing love letters.

Or like letters.

Whatever.

Put simply, you make me feel great – that’s why I like you.

I like you because you are curious about discovering new things. I like you because you inspire me to write things about you, like I’m doing right now and like I’ll probably do again soon. I like you because you make me stop and think, and when I’m around you I stop and think a lot, and when I stop and think a lot, I wonder about things that I’ve never wondered about, and it makes me feel great to stop and think a lot and wonder about things I’ve never wondered about with you.

I like you because you make me wonder, and wondering feels wonderful.

Sometimes, when you’re talking to me, I unintentionally lose focus in what you’re saying and then, before I even know what’s happening, I start to wonder about you.

I wonder what your eyes look like when they’re filled with tears, when sadness has won a battle for your heart.

I wonder if you believe in hatred, if you’re cranky in the morning, if you would choose to break your spirit in half if it meant you’d grow stronger, better, softer.

I wonder what your line in the sand is, and if you’ve ever crossed it and why.

I wonder if you wake up smiling or what your hair smells like when you get out of the shower.

I wonder what your thoughts about regret are, if you have any, and if you do, I wonder where they’re kept.

I wonder what kind of person you’ll grow up to be, and I wonder if your kind heart will survive the meanness of life like I hope it does, like I think it should.

I wonder where your thoughts go when you close your eyes and I wonder what place you think about when you stare into the vast nothingness of the present moment, inquisitive eyes filled with lustful possibility, throbbing and curious.

I wonder if you like me like I like you – completely, unexpectedly, and with no regard for what comes next.

I wonder what will come next, and how ready you are to face it, and I wonder if you want to face it with me.

I wonder how it will be tomorrow or the day after that, when I see you again, and I wonder if I’ll like you then like I like you right now, or if maybe I’ll like you a little bit more.

I wonder if I could make you happy, and I wonder what feels like to be loved by you.

I wonder if that’s how it starts for us, and I wonder if that’s how it always starts.

I have no idea how it ends.

Nobody ever does.

But I guess, after all, that’s what life is about, isn’t it?

I hope so.

And I hope you hope so, too.