I think there is something beautiful in being able to imagine what it would be like to feel your warm embrace, but not being able to actually touch you.

It lets my mind run wild, frenzied from apprehension and excitement, though my thoughts are indeed tinged with sadness. It is a bittersweet feeling knowing our minds might be settled upon the other at precisely the same time, within that wonderful few-hour window we share of wakefulness.

Any spare moment I have, my mind finds solace in thinking about what you might be doing or what things you might be dreaming about.

While I will the days away and pray they fly like birds upon a migration route, know that there is not a thing in this universe I would rather be doing than busying myself thinking of you and dreaming of the day where I am no longer stuck in seemingly-permanent wonderment about who you are.

The moment my arms can wrap around your muscular shoulders and my lips can feel yours between them, I know that the questions I have about what drives you, what turns you on, what makes you happiest that arise in my head will be answered and I will know the true reason why I could never settle for anything else.

It is you. It has always been you. One day, the counting will stop and I will be able to simply look you in the eyes, smile, and remember that every lonely moment was for this.

The time will pass regardless, but what I am so lucky to possess is something so worthwhile to await. You are my reason, my very favorite form of melancholy hope. For that is what truly gives meaning to life: the promise of possibility.