A Knee

There you are.

Six inches away. It might as well be an ocean. But then my hand touches your knee.

It's been a hell of a ride. About three months since it fell apart. Three months since I could call you mine. I didn't think it was real at first. I don't think that now. It's very real, and what we were ended that day. Tonight I lay here with you, as I have several times during these months, with hope in my heart to grow something new.

Without you it just isn't the same. I don't need you to go on. I don't need you to live a good life. I just need you to live the life I want. Without you, everything is grey. Even a laugh is half-hearted. But with you, the world changes. And the more I try to forget you, deeper in love with you I fall.

Six inches away. Touching your knee. You said I should stay because the roads are bad. They're fine, though. I think that you just want me there. So here I lay, and everything that I truly desire lies right beside me. I don't move to you, though. I've tried before. I don't want to set us back. I hope that you'll come to me soon.

In the morning I will leave, and it will be hard. I will want us to get right back on track. Rushing things. I'll be sad if it doesn't happen, but I will try again. Maybe in another week, things will be different. 

Tonight all I get is this knee. It's perfect. Somehow, right now, it's enough. And if this knee was all that was left of you in the world, I would still love you more than any man ever could.