I keep listening to Jesse’s heartbeat.
It’s my favorite way to soak in the idea of being with him in person.
I like to lay on his chest when we watch movies and just commit the sound to memory. Sometimes, he’ll ask me about something that just happened, and I don’t have it in me to tell him that is heartbeat is just so much more interesting that the action movie he picked.
I love it so much.
I want to listen to everyday.
It’s a sound you can’t hear over the phone, or read in a Facebook message or feel in a picture.
It’s my favorite sound.
Probably because Jesse is my favorite boy.
He’s got these amazing brown eyes that could convince to jump off a cliff with him as long he was holding my hand. He thinks my blog is funny. He lets me pick the movie every time. He calls me baby and I don’t even mind it. He’s sweet, and thoughtful and just all around pretty freaking great.
And, he’s a Marine.
We’ve met while he’s on leave, and I’ve fallen for him harder than a girl should fall for a Marine only home on leave. But sometimes, we don’t get to pick those things. We don’t get to give the universe or God or whatever a list of specifics we’d like in our next love. We just meet them and see their eyes and hear their heartbeat and we fall.
Hard.
He’s leaving to go back to the Marines this weekend, and I’m not sure what the future holds for us.
I’m OK with that. I’m trying to be OK with that.
Actually, mostly it just sucks.
A couple days ago I couldn’t pretend anymore that he wasn’t leaving, and I realized that I do care that he’ll be gone, and then, suddenly I was in a bank parking lot on a Sunday night crying and freaking out and wondering why the crap love is so hard.
For now though, at least, I’m comforting myself with the knowledge that no matter what happens, I will forever have in my memory box the sound of his heartbeat.
