What I miss...
I miss loving you without sharpening my thoughts. Without spreadsheets of tone, without footnotes on pauses. I miss when a laugh was just a laugh, And not a variable, not a test to see if I was being studied or sized up. Somewhere along the way This girl arithmetic became woman calculus; derivatives of intention, integrals of doubt, solving for why while pretending not to care about the answer. Now every kindness comes with a margin for error. Every silence asks to be proven. I try to write equations on affection until it collapses under its own weight. I don’t want to be clever anymore. I want to be careless in the old way… With rose-tinted glasses, Dreaming under the starlit sky... The way that trusted before it knew better. I miss loving you when my heart was enough, And my mind wasn’t always trying to protect it.
