Jeffrey

I’ve never told you this, but in the morning, when you’re still asleep, I put my face as close as I can to yours. 

I lay next to you in intimate, wordless solitude, the tips of our noses nearly touching. I gage your breathing and adjusting mine so that we’re alternating breaths. When you breathe out, I breathe in.

Sometimes I keep my eyes closed and sometimes I watch you — taking in your face, feature to feature. When I look at you from across the dinner table or in the mirror when you’re brushing your teeth, I can clearly see that you have the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. But at close range [at a distance where I can feel your breath and your body heat and the life buzzing around your face], you are somehow even more breathtaking. Up close, you are a perfect collage of shapes and colors. Sharp black punctures, soft angular shadows, and a pale rosy glow just under your skin.

When you stir or tussle, I run my fingertips through your thick blond hair or lay my palm flatly across the side of your face, just to reassure you that I’m here.

Sometimes I kiss you on the forehead or right on the lips. I press my lips softly against your face and hope it reaches you, wherever you are in your dreams.

On days when we have to be up early for work, I savor your nearness intensely. On weekends, I can do this for hours. And it’s always my favorite part of the day.

Sometimes, in the quiet stillness of my bedroom, I tell you I’m sorry.

I tell you I’m sorry for not always being a great boyfriend.

I tell you I’m sorry for fraying the friable trust we’ve built with my crippling insecurities.

I tell you I’m sorry for continually breaking your heart.

I tell you I’m sorry within inches from your face, while you are sleeping because your silence and beauty feel the same as forgiveness.

In my heart, I want to stay with you and work this out. Because I love you so much that I enjoy the simple pleasure of breathing the same air as you.

But you can go.

And I can let you go.

The future won’t be so painful with all these memories I have — treasuring your face in the moments before you wake up, sleepily look me in the eyes and say, “I love you.”