we are lucky in our longing

my lover is on the road.
my lover is in a different time zone.
my lover is lodged in my chest, pointy elbows poking into my ribs, warm whispered I love you's calming my heart.

so this is love? it seems to always come in unexpected packaging. we fell and then he flew away. he returns for what is mind-blowing bliss only to board a plane again. and he is off. and I miss him.

and I thank the heavens for the ache.

and I hear from him at 2 in the morning or 8 in the morning or 5:37 at night or whenever else he gets a free moment from the rise of rock n roll fame.

I fall asleep late and wake early, just hoping to hear his voice, his beautiful voice.

others are starting to fall for him too. for his energy on stage, for his beautiful music, for his magnificent mustache. I asked him the other day if he will still need my love when millions of people love him -- he said that he will need it then, more than ever. I believe him. he also said this:

Our love is an egg, I am a bird. Our love is a ship in the night, I am the watchman on the tower.
You can close your eyes and sleep without worrying, because your heart is safe.

it is hard to miss him so much, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

we are lucky in our longing.