Vielleicht, vielleicht

My English interpretation

What you give me is hard to describe because I’ve never felt it before. But I’ll try, and I don’t need too many words—and that’s the point. I don’t have to pretend to be anyone else, or put on some kind of show. No masks with you. No games or roles to play. But that’s not even the extent of it. You take it a step further because when I say “No,” you say “Cool.” And when I say, “I barely even know who I am. Can we take it slow?” you give me not only time, but you give me space too.

And at the very same time, as you let me do me, you do you. And I love everything you are. And I love every little thing you do. Like when it snowed on the night before Christmas Eve, and I watched you look up to the sky with closed eyes and an outstretched tongue, trying to catch snowflakes. Or like on that Fourth of July when we went up to the lake and you climbed that rock and dove into water that was still somehow way too cold for the middle of the summer.

It’s those little things that make you who you are. They make me pause and wonder if maybe, just maybe, it can stay like this forever. You’re the muse in my dream that I never want to end.

Let me be me and please let you be you. It’s the little things you do. Like in the mornings when I’m lucky enough to have woken up next to you. It’s such a beautiful sight to see you stand naked before the fogged-up mirror and hear you think out loud. Because although you say with a sigh, “Today is gonna be a loooooong day,” you already have a smirk on your face. Then you ask, “What are we gonna get up to tonight?” Whatever it may be doesn’t matter. What matters is the smile on your face when you blow me a kiss on the way out the door.

Those are the little things that make me feel like I’m falling head over heels, wishing that maybe, just maybe, it can stay like this forever. You’re a dream that I never want to wake up from. Never.

Never ever.

Who are you, where did you come from, and how did I get so lucky? Sometimes I don’t even believe that this is real, and I’m not costarring opposite another nightmare starlet in the same old scene on the same old stage in the same old nightmare of a play. All those girls want is a red carpet. All you want is for me to take my mask off. And it’s scary what you can pull out of me when I’m being the opposite of directed and manipulated. You’re the dream that I never want to wake up from.

And I wonder if maybe, just maybe, it can stay like this forever.

Forever and ever.