Counting Down

Sometimes I count backwards from ten and when I get to one, BOOM! there's an explosion. Perhaps it is a rouge planet crashing into Earth or some other major catastrophe. After I realize that nothing happened I feel relieved and at the same time a little disappointed I think of you at ten- the first time I saw you. Your smile at nine and how it lit up something inside me I had thought long dead. Your lips are eight pressed against mine and at seven, your breath in my ear and your hands everywhere. You tell me you love me at six and at five we have our first fight. At four we have our second and at three our third. At two you tell me you cannot go on like this any longer and then at one, you ask me to stay. And I am relived, so relieved- and a little disappointed.