In my brain

I see your face again

I know my frame of mind

You ain’t got to be so blind

And I’m blind, so very blind

Can’t you see what I am

I live and breathe for you

But what good does it do

If I ain’t got you, ain’t got you

-Jordin Sparks

You know, all I want is to eat a bowl of cereal without a bus bumping something and then spilling all over in the morning. All I want is to wake up in the morning in my own bed, in the nice, over priced sheets I bought myself right after I got the job being Justin’s assistant. I want the small comforts of home, integrated with everything I love about him.

There’s something glorious about everything he does. The way he laughs, and his cheeks crinkle up and you can see his apparent glow in his eyes or the way he stares at me intently listening to every word I’m saying, even if I’m just bitching about Grey’s Anatomy. And I don’t know why all of the simple, small, even miniscule stuff attracts me to him. To me, it’s not pop star Justin Timberlake, it’s just Justin. The boy who learned the hard way about love. 

Speaking of love, we actually haven’t been using the term. He’s said it to me before, but I made him promise that he would use it sparingly until he knows that he’s only going to say it to me for the rest of our lives. That may sound kind of corny to some people, but it works for us.

I’m comfortable, not infatuated. I’m content, not crazy. I’m about to fall in love with somebody, not have my heart broken. I’m taking my time and he’s taking his and in the end, if it works out the way I’m hoping it does, then we have nobody to thank but ourselves. 

When you watch him on stage, his charisma, his facade that he puts up and his beaming light, so bright that if you turned off every light in the arena, it would still light the place up. To have that talent and to hone it the way he has is truly unbelievable to me.

But the tour will be coming to a short break relatively soon, and we’ll both be heading back to our respective families for Thanksgiving. He’ll probably be in Tennessee and I’ll make my way home back to Pittsburgh. I don’t expect us to celebrate the holidays yet, I mean, we’re dating, but nothing’s all that serious yet.

I like simple, it doesn’t complicate my life anymore than it has to but I’d be lying to you right now if I didn’t want more out of this. I want family, kids, love for everyday of the rest of my life. That, however, takes time and dedication, two things we’ve been low on for awhile.

He’s hard to stop staring at, you know that? His hands are softly grazing the keyboard as the first few notes come into play.

“Can I play you one more song before I go?”

All of a sudden, the mass of fans, including myself, respond in outcries and pleas to continue on and he’s right where he should be, in control of nearly eighteen thousand people. His voice softly echos off the microphone and he closes is eyes, as though he’s imagining something when he sings. 

“You’ve been alone

you’ve been afraid

I’ve been a fool

In so many ways

But I would change my life

If you thought you might try to love me

So please, give me another chance

To write you another song

And take back those things I’ve done

Cause I’ll give you my heart

If you would let me start all over again”

And just like that, I lose my sense of common thought. He makes eye contact with me, and right then and there, I know. How could you not? 

“So give me another chance

To write you another song

And take back those things I’ve done

I’ll give you my heart, yes I will

If you would let me start all over again”

Others are blowing kisses, some are panting at the thought of him, and some are just staring. Me though, I just wink and he turns his head and winks at me and I know that all the craziness, all of this, the thousands of fans, once they all leave, it’s still going to be him and me.