Sweet Nothings

Whisper some sweet nothings in my ear, she said, much to my amusement.

Come on, tell me.

Tell me how perfect I am to you.

Tell me I’m beautiful, so beautiful that it’s painful to imagine life without seeing me.

Tell me I complete you. That I alone am worth all of the heartbreak you endured, just to get to me.

Tell me what’s special about me. What makes me “the one”, and will keep me from being “the one that got away”.

Tell me you can’t live without me, and the thought of it pierces your heart to it’s deepest extent.

Tell me about the magnetism of my smile, how it lights up every room I walk into.

Tell me of the warmth in my eyes, the silk texture of my skin.

I want to feel your warm embrace, closer than ever before, in your words.

Tell me these things now.

Because someday, those feelings will change.

The perfection you see in me will be a memory, erased by feelings of frustration and sadness about our interactions.

You’ll see me, tired, worn out, and be uncharacteristically unmoved by my appearance.

Someday, you may long for the joys of the single life. The days that the thought of another heartbreak were nonexistent.

Someday, you’d rather miss me than deal with me. I’m not being a downer, these are just facts.

My smile will fade.

My eyes will sink into their coverings.

The texture of my exterior will one day match my rough and grim interior.

Someday, you’ll remind me of what my touch once was, but will never touch me again.

And the memory of these nothings will be the thread holding us together.

The hope that someday, these sayings will again become gospel.

Something others will find so meaningless, will one day be all that we have.

And all that we need.

So, tell me these sweet nothings now.

For someday, they will mean everything.