What I Want

I want to lie my head on the breast of a naked woman and have her tell me that everything is going to be okay. I want to look up into her eyes and believe that I can become what she already believes me to be. I want to hear the story of her life and see where she lives and meet her friends. I want to close my eyes and fall backwards into her world, to lose myself between her legs, to find meaning in her smile and the sound of her voice. I want her happiness to be my own. I want to open doors, pay compliments, buy flowers, celebrate the first kiss and dream of those to come. I want to be a good man, to protect and comfort, to be strong when strength is needed and gentle when it is not. I want to hide nothing, to share everything, to promise the world, and mean it all. I want to make her laugh. I want to fall in love -- crazy, lost-in-a-kiss, irrational love -- one last time. I want to defy my fear and offer my half-healed heart to the love of my life.

But first, of course, I want to meet her.