The Best

One of the best things about being together was not being together.  Because when we weren’t together I got to feel how much I loved you.  I felt it in my toes that wiggled under my desk at work while I listened to all my favorite happy songs.  I felt it in my stomach as it danced to the music.  I felt it in the veins of my arms; my blood rushing the way I wished the hours would rush by until I saw you next, and my arms were my vein’s awkward vehicles, swinging back and forth -- forward towards the hope of you at my side.  And I felt the wiggle come up my legs from my toes.  And I felt the dance twist and twirl down from my stomach.  And I felt the blood rush from my arms – down, down.  And there it was, one of my favorite things about being together: not being together, so that we could come together again.  And then I’d see your face across the street on a cold winter evening and I couldn’t have told you what the best part about being together was because everything was wonderful, so maybe I complained about the cold or the fact that you were late or maybe I told you about the bad day I’d had at work, but I was only saying that because I couldn’t tell you what I loved about you because I loved everything and I didn’t know how to say it.