Work Text:
There’s this old Kevin Durant tweet I love from 2010. It reads: “#uever wake up n the middle of da night and think about a girl u like or startin to like and sit at da edge of the bed n say damn i want her.”
And yes, surely that is one of the inescapable parts of a crush, too. The things that keep you awake, or send you to the edge of a bed, speaking out loud to no one but yourself and the world you’ve built with a person who—if you are one of the lucky ones—might be at the edge of their own bed, thinking of you. - Hanif Abdurraqib
3:18 a.m.
Green eyes, keeping him awake.
He sits, on the edge of the king-sized mattress
Sheets still warm behind him
On the bed he bought two years ago
A king he’s never shared with anyone
He’d thought—
He thought he’d found someone
An occupant? A partner? A friend.
Someone who might fill the empty left side of this bed
Leaving indents in the mattress, that until now has stayed like new
Abandoned water glasses and a stack of dog-eared books on the nightstand
That currently hosts a dying snake plant and a halfway-burned candle his sister gave him for Christmas
His home, perfectly curated with characterless furniture and art
Each item, painstakingly chosen
To fit an aesthetic
Gray, gray, gray
His home, serene, pin neat, an empty oasis
A reflection of his self
He’d seen glimpses, between glistening smiles and hurried kisses
Of nights filling the rooms between these walls with laughter and soft sighs
Of swapping stories and secrets, beneath the crisp sheets of a warm bed
Of a messy kitchen and socks on the bathroom floor
Someone to shake his shit up
To blow into his neat little life and cause a little chaos
Someone to crack open his closely guarded heart
To reach inside
Find those soft spots
The things he’s kept hidden since he was a boy
Someone to make him feel
Alive
Green eyes, keeping him awake.
He’s a fool, perhaps
Tonight those eyes had shined with pain
A brokenness that had been hidden
Behind hip shimmies and aloofness
Cocky grins and eager hands
Maybe—
A fool, perhaps, but maybe
His wasn’t the only soul that felt broken
Scarred from a lifetime of trying to fit into a mold
To be the man he was supposed to be
Playing house with the person he was supposed to be with
Perhaps two broken souls could find a way
Together
Green eyes, keeping him awake
Perhaps though
Somewhere
On the other side of town
Those green eyes are open
Bright and glassy in the Texas moonlight
Belonging to a boy who sits on the edge of his mattress
Brand new and a little too firm
At 3:18 a.m.
A boy with a smart mouth and a busted lip
Thinking about kind brown eyes and gentle hands
About a steadiness he’s never experienced
About a generous heart he’s not sure he should be trusted with
And wondering
If maybe
He’s not so broken after all