I Will Drop Everything To Hang Out With You
Read more poetry by Britt Wolfe
There are loves that mature
by distancing.
By learning how to stand apart
without pulling away.
Ours did something else.
It stayed curious.
Thirteen years in,
and I still feel it—
that irrational, magnetic pull
toward your presence.
That instinct to abandon
whatever I’m pretending is urgent
because you are there,
and that has always been enough.
We never outgrew conversation.
We never exhausted the pleasure
of hearing the other think out loud.
Our sentences still lean toward one another,
still overlap,
still wander
with no destination
and no desire to arrive.
People talk about the honeymoon phase
like it’s supposed to expire—
like wanting each other this much
is something you age out of,
like intimacy naturally thins
to something more practical.
But we kept choosing orbit.
We kept circling back
to the same couch,
the same kitchen,
the same quiet joke
that only works because it’s us.
Responsibility has tried
to intervene.
Schedules have attempted
to assert themselves.
And still—
if you ask me to come sit with you,
I will.
If you want to go nowhere together,
I am already putting my shoes on.
If you need nothing
except my company,
I am astonishingly available.
This is not dependency.
It is preference.
I do not cling to you.
I choose you.
Again.
And again.
And again.
I want to be where you are
because my life feels more like itself
in your proximity.
Because laughter is easier.
Because silence feels inhabited.
Because the world sharpens
and softens at the same time
when you are near.
We have built a life
where love is not ceremonial.
It is casual.
Unforced.
So reliable it feels almost reckless
how quickly I will abandon everything else
to be with you.
You are my favourite interruption.
The one I never resent.
The one I hope for.
After all this time,
the greatest truth I know about us
is also the simplest:
I will still drop everything
to hang out with you.
Not because I have to.
But because—
astonishingly, enduringly—
I want to.
And that wanting
has never worn thin.
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