You make me wish

I’m not sure how to explain what I mean. I am not the wishing kind. Sometimes I hope, but I do not wish. 

You make me wish.

And that feeling is unsettling. Full of hope and yearning, but also sadness and pain. It’s strange and comforting at the same time.

It’s that yearning that makes you feel vulnerable. Those wishing moments leave me feeling fragile, as if an unkind word could tear the world apart at its seams. And they are rare, those moments, vanishing as quickly as a spark in the darkness.

I don’t wish for big things in those moments, big changes, or anything materialistic. It’s little things I wish for, tiny moments, barely discernible from the background noise that is life. A look, a touch, a word.

Just a little spark, that lights up the world for only an instant.

It is like I am wishing that my heart could reach out to yours, embrace it, wrap it in warmth, and keep it safe. Surround you with a glow of light and love, that fights off the ugliness of the world.