All the time...

I breathe in and you breathe out, and I've been wishing you well since the day you were born; hoping that you were kissing all the wrong mouths and moving in all the proper directions to get to me, every slight of your hand has moved you closer to me. Every moment you lost someone you loved, every girl you've broken and who has broken you, every lost tooth and skinned knee and long night, every haircut and chest cold, every stranger you spoke to and every stranger that you never got a chance to speak to, every new friend on an airplane, new enemy on the playing field, every broken bone and busted blood vessell, and pair of shaking hands, every sleeping bag, old t-shirt, cliff, mountain and crack in the cement, every leap you took, every chance you missed, every bad morning and every hangover; every fight with your father and every time you made your mother cry, every letter you've received and every prank you've pulled, every prescription filled, and the pills you didn't swallow. All of the places you've seen, the melted snow, the bloody noses, the people you've missed, the religion you lost, the whispers you've uttered, the black eyes, the akward silences, the airplane trails in the sky, the pollution, the paragraphs you spoke, the books you didn't read, the dirty water, the hand-me downs, the times you've been caught, the games of rock paper scissors, the stray hairs, the upset stomachs, the trouble with the fbi, the ink stains, the exposed negatives, the shattered lenses, the long exposures, the stomach in your throat, the moments of skin on skin, the lonely freckles, all of the bad songs, the drunk ex-girlfriends, the indigestion, the dogwood flowers, the bruises, the burns, the blisters, the songs on repeat, the scars on your hands from every mistake you've ever made, have brought you here, to me, to this moment suspended in time. Finally.