coat-tail confessions

i'm doomed to be two seconds too late and two inches too short, caught tumbling past your coat-tails because i've tripped over my own feet in my attempt to walk next to you without making too much eye contact. i'm always stumbling over a mouthful of words and hesitant questions, knowing that despite that, i'll never get to properly say any of them because i'll always be three steps behind and too busy wistfully smiling through thoughts of maybes and most certainly never-could-bes.

i'm not one to cough up my heart into my hand, instead keeping it kept curled tightly in my chest and beating to a quiet staccato drum that only i can hear so that i don't have to find out again what it's like to have it dropped beneath stomping feet.  i reckon i'll give it to someone someday eventually, but for now, i'm staring down already beaten paths and wishing for things from people that i'll never obtain. i know better than to break apart a good thing when i see one, and i don't doubt that being the wedge in a hard place is somewhere i'd never enjoy being.

i guess i'm trying to say that i'm still tired of staring down blue bay piers by myself calling softly to gulls dipping and lulling on a horizon i'll never get to properly see. i guess i'm trying to say that i don't understand the way life brings certain people into my own life only to laugh as they disappear off the map and onward toward uncharted regions that i have no real concept of and no chance of seeing. i'm trying to say that i can't help who i am and that wanting more from people who will never need me as much as i need them is more wearisome than originally thought-out and never happens anyway.

sometimes, i wonder if i'm one of those lost star-struck cases who can never quite pull their head back from the milky way to breathe the reality of earth's air, forever spun deeper into a realm where possibilities are endless and life has no boundaries. i can't say that my expectations are high, or that i don't dream of what might be, but i've learned that life is rarely fair and those you hold the most dear are those the quickest to leave.

it's with this thought that leaves me with the idea that i must leave my hands open and my words held back, keeping the option of friendship an option and keeping tongue-tied-truths and softly veiled secrets hidden behind constructed doors. i'm no good at holding up the charade, no good at putting on  the mask, so i'll sit and hope you don't see through my conflicted feelings and open-faced emotions. i'll hope you don't come knocking on thin walls and partially sealed entry-ways seeking answers to questions i haven't answered myself yet.

i can't tell you what i'd really like to say, can't tell you that my fingers itch to reach behind a delicate rib cage to pull out and cradle a pulsing organ between cupped palms in a silent offering of faith and trust, but i wish i could. i know i'll always be four minutes away from telling you what i need to, and knowing anyway that if i ever did it would be the last i ever saw of you. i'm not so naïve to think we could ever be more than what we are now, and i'm okay with that, okay with keeping my tongue caught between my teeth so i don't say something stupid and ruin what little we already have.

i know i'll never truly walk by your side, i know i'll never be able to look you in the eyes longer than 20 seconds, always caught somewhere down near your elbow or tripping up over whipping coat-tails that beckon me to follow even though i know i'll never end up where i want to be anyway. i'll always be 5 steps closer to hopelessness than to redemption, and  i know i'll never be enough for you to choose me over anyone else regardless. i know that i need to stop wishing for things that will never be from people bent on paths already woven in the grass.

but i can't help that i yearn to run barefoot down sloping hills of sand, i can't help that i yearn to touch fingers to horizons that will never really be mine, can't help that laughter is a remedy found too easily in the solace of your company down city streets and quiet pathways. i hope that you see that i wish for your happiness above all else, that i'll sit with ankles crossed beneath ocean waves as i sit on lonely piers at the edge of dusk, watching gulls circle and dive above frothy waters as you disappear into uncharted territory unknown to me.

but i have faith that you'll return happily. maybe one day i'll be the same. but until then, i'll always be two seconds too late and two inches too short, stumbling over a mouthful of words and hesitant questions, knowing i'll never be able to say them anyway.