When You Give A Mouse A Cookie.

I told my friends this winter “If I just hook up with him this summer my life will be complete.” And maybe I did. But, regardless, my life is far from complete. I don’t want just the hookup anymore. I want the future. I want the phone calls, and the visits, and the photos and the inside jokes. I want the thing.

You told me once “you’re like the mouse in if you give a mouse a cookie.” You don’t know how right you are. I know greed is a sin and you shouldn’t always want more; I know that you need to be content with what you have, what you’re lucky enough to have had. But you make that hard.

I looked back at the photos from my trip today and something dawned on me. The photo of you with that random dog at the house party – I’ve never seen you so happy. You’re like a child; euphoric almost. And all this time I thought it was the puppy, and it probably is, but I took that photo. You’re making that face at me. And the thought that I might never see that first hand again is enough to break my heart.

I don’t know why I met you. The timing was (is) complete and utter shit. I had a boyfriend, then I fell apart. You didn’t want a girlfriend, you still don’t. But here I am – seven months later – as smitten with you as I was that day you walked into class late. As smitten as I was the day I got ready hoping to see your face at dinner. As smitten as I was the moment you kissed my forehead and told me goodnight.

Everybody says timing is really important – especially you. But they also say patience is a virtue. Do I wait for you? Do I accept that this is all in my head?

I don’t know.

The truth is, I don’t know what to do. but tonight, laying here thinking about everything, I can’t think of anything except how right it all feels. Even if it doesn’t make sense. You’re tall and I’m tiny. You’re quiet and I’m wordy. You’re rational, I’m crazy. Maybe the old saying holds true; opposites attract

When will I see you again? When will you come out here? When will you talk first? When will we FaceTime? When will you tell me you miss me, or finally give this a try?

Oh god. you really shouldn’t give a mouse a cookie, but I’m grateful that you did.



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