friend-to-lover, that's easy

that spark
that intent
that sideways glance glimmer smirk knowing
that you want me I see
that I want you back
that no-longer-hidden no-longer-disguised
- oh we're serious about this, aren't we? well, shit.

when teasing isn't anymore
when we need those joking promises fulfilled
when we can't breathe until we've had more than just-that-taste
just a hint

no - no more hints
give me everything
give me all you have
and give it to me now now now now now

but the lover-to-friend
that's a considerably more difficult conversion

that's emotion
sharing faults
showing fears
needing something that can't be satisfied by sultry gaze and tangled limbs
but that scary scary spark that makes memories
out of long nights curled up under sheets
not just here-and-now, this-is-warm-and-pleasant

but
that
I need you
and then suddenly it's more than friends
and I realize
I need you

to breathe for me when I forget the in-out-in
to be weak for me so I can be strong for you
to push me out of complacency
to ease me through terror
to break down so I can whip out the krazy-glue
and make this work
somehow
because I can live without you
but I don't want to

because you inspire and prod and tease and cajole and comfort
because you are beauty incarnate, michaelangelo-perfect proportioned muscles
because you search incessantly for knowledge
because you are patient and gentle
because you are truthful to me and true to yourself
because you have eyes only for me
because you're loving and loveful
and the way you smile at me makes me want to be a better person
and I can't not love you

believe me, I tried
believing it would be easier to stay distant
to stay arms-length, away from connection and vulnerability and intimacy
but you undid me
accidentally
and I love you more for it

and I want to be your lover
I want to be your wife
I want to be forever
I want to be your life

and I'm willing to accept the voice of statistics, experience, media,
because this is preemptive triumph
and you're worth fighting for
and we're both obnoxious statistic-trumping contrarians
who enjoy snorting and proving 'em wrong

so yeah, it can be done
and we'll do it
gleefully
wildly
constantly
until they admit we've got something special
and we won't hear their ironic golf-claps
over thunderous orgasms, joyous yells, howling kids, roaring plane engines, and that distinctive sound of boxes of glassware dropped and shattering
and we'll shrug
and grin
and continue our glorious life together

because I want to watch our dreams blossom
and I want to count your curly grays growing
and I want to soothe your aching joints
and I want this

I want us