I Want You

The glorified flirting of 20-somethings, it’s tiring. The result of a string of almost-conversations and manipulations that bring two people as close together as strangers in a grocery line. A phantom connection based on cleverly (and not-so-cleverly) crafted sentences and unwarranted high hopes. I’ve heard it been called “thrilling.” And I don’t understand how someone can be sustained off of that kind of interaction alone. How they can be thrilled by the same stale halfway intimacy? 

Have you ever had someone look at you, into you, and say “I want you,” without a faltering syllable? Just that. An “I want you,”  comprised of feelings so simple and so sure. All of the stomach-fluttering flirting that so many sort-of-kind-of relationships thrive on cannot even breathe in the same room with something so strong as an “I want you.”

As clearly as a long-awaited pulse beats, “I want you,” resounds, stopping all of the world’s noise.

Wait for it.