Someone To Stay | Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Someone to Stay - Vancouver Sleep Clinic

i’m really good at being alone. like, really good at it. i thrive off of it. i crave it. i covet it. i’ll always come back to it.
but
it’s in my bones. the need for companionship. the need for human connection. the mutual acknowledgement that “i see you. i’m with you. in this moment, we are one.”
we all need someone to stay.

it's in the moments of contact. the moments that give substance to your being. the essence of our innate humanness. i live for those moments. i spend time dreaming them, writing them, wishing them, chasing them.
can you keep me close can you love me most

it’s like
you were there.
in a moment when i needed someone
& you needed someone too.
& maybe that is good enough.

maybe that is all we need for the in between bits. when we forget ourselves. to help us remember the blood in our veins, the invisible hairs above our lips, the curve of our spine, the flush of life in our cheeks. to remember that this simulation is imperfect and it is beautiful. the moments that remind us to breathe and to feel and to cry and to ask. where we see one another. really see.

so who are we to dismiss them. to ignore them. to stop them up. the leaks that threaten a flood of connection & vulnerability maybe. the moments of contact.
at the end of the day it will help us

the life threatened rooftop conversations, whispered dreams between lighting bolts.
the confessions in the library and the secret kissing between the stacks.
the sitting on old couches on the side of the road and falling in a pile of leaves on the street.
the waking up next to you.
the serenaded bike rides.
the coffee shop glances.
the old mattress in the back of your car.
the silent knowing side by side in an old movie theater.
the burning touch. skin to skin.
the huddled bus stop conversations, betrayed by our visible breath.
the abandoned warehouse explorations.
the hard questions.
the soft ones.
the "we only have ten minutes before my train comes."
the mid-concert snack breaks.
the windows rolled down old familiar roads.
the philosophical phone calls.
the you revealed to me in six pieces of sushi.
the stolen stares.
the fiery bus rides.
the time stopping moments of eye contact. the undeniable glimpse of a stranger's soul. 
the midnight skateboarding in a foreign city, ending with your lips on mine.
the whispered confessions under safety of sheets. 
the dancing in gas stations, tipsy on sweet rum & coke.
the handwritten pillow top goodbyes. proof.
the reckless, wild taste of you
the hopeless, self contained, wistfulness

fleeting, maybe. but essential. these moments of contact. where someone says “i’m not going anywhere.” where they (finally) stay. 

& so we were one. if only for a moment.