when the semester ended i thought to myself: i will write i will write i will write all summer. i have all the time in the world all to myself and there are no excuses.
oh. is it really the end of june already? have i really posted nothing, started on nothing, edited nothing? jesus no wonder why i’ve been feeling that tug in my stomach every day since i flew out. i thought i was pregnant. turns out it was just guilt.
i love you, bram salas. you are the only person in the entire universe who has made me so happy that i have become crippled. writing has always been a part of me, has always been an extension of me, has always been something that i’ve felt flows straight from my heart down my arm to my fingertips and onto paper, has always been innate. but since you. i have to force myself to write. writers love sadness, people say this all the time. they love sadness because it makes writing so easy. but god damn. i don’t even remember the last time i was sad with you.
i am sorry i haven’t written.
but if i could i would tell the whole world about the way we made love for the first time. there are a million words i could let loose from my fingers, my mouth, all of the places you’ve touched. a million. how i waited 21 years to lose that part of myself and how i know right well i will never regret this. there are a million words that, if i put together, could tell the story of how i felt when i watched you take that part of me and claim it as your own. how you looked me in the eyes afterwards and told me “you are the love of my fucking life.” how i cried a few minutes later because i didn’t think it would be so good. it. all of it. my life. you. us. that moment. everything.
i love you, i think of you so much. how you have never given me a reason to feel insecure. how you allowed me to buy la taqueria three times in a row. how you always make that stupid face whenever i try to argue with you. so i forgive you right away and all is well. how you are now “uncle b” and “diego” and “jake” and “auntie christen’s special friend” to the girls who make my life a thousand times better. you are my favorite, you are my best friend. come, let’s get married, let’s live in a house together.
i am sorry i haven’t been writing. i’ve been too caught up in you to. forgive me.
is it really the middle of may? already? has it really been seven months since you touched me last?
people still come to me and tell me about you. and you know. this shit hurts like a bitch. that they know i still care. that they know i still think about you from time to time. sometimes when i am driving with my windows down my heart wants to listen to kendrick lamar’s LOVE. but i tell it it can’t. it can’t do that until it can listen to it and not think of you.
i can still feel that slow fucking smile against mine. you know the way our lips were so right together. i know you know that, you were the one who pointed it out. i can still feel those hands. those legs. those smooth motions you always used to do when we were kissingthisfuckingsucks. youfuckingsuck. i used to think how the fuck is she not over him yet when my friend would tell me about you months after you left her. shit.
and you know what else sucks seeing you on instagram stories wearing my shit wearing your glasses wearing your black longsleeves ohmygod i used to kiss the back of your ear and say “you should wear a black longsleeve everyday” and i’m happy to see you listened to me. wearing your high socks with janoskis. god damn if i ever saw you one last time i don’t think i’d be capable of working up the words to say i hate you.
ihatetheway you make me feel like loving you was the only thing i was good at. i hatetheway you make my words move so easily i hatetheway you hide your words from me i hatethe way you’re so scared. i just wanted to love you god damnit. i just wanted to love you. youshould’veletmeloveyou you should’ve let me kiss the backs of your shoulders even though you’re ticklish there. you should’ve let me meet your mom. you should’ve let me in. you should’ve let me love you the way i have to do quietly because you won’t allow me to do it loudly.
i’m scared that years from now this feeling will still be there. goddamnit matt just fucking talk to me. i don’t ask for much. i never did.
i am not doing well because i am not writing. i haven’t been.
i wonder. truly. how good i would’ve been had i given myself time.
i deserve this. i deserve this distance. i deserve this loss. i needed it.
time spent with you was not a waste.
i am glad i met you. i am glad we fell in love. i am glad we ended.
my heart. it is not where it usually is. it is displaced.
but it is finally on the road to being fully mended.
i love you dearly, b. you are the love of my life.
sometimes when i am listening to silence instead of your voice i wonder what things would have been like had we never broken up. i have to keep reminding myself that things were supposed to go this way. i was supposed to go without you for two whole years and you without me. but we were supposed to come back together and be stronger. full of love and light and willingness to work shit out no matter what direction shit goes.
i love you to death and beyond. sometimes when i feel like pulling the skin off of my fingers i hold my hands up to my face instead. caress my cheeks with them like they are dew drops on morning grass. my favorite. i think, the universe really saved me for you. it has kept me from losing the most sacred part of me to people who didn’t deserve me. so that i could lose it to you. if that is not something to stop me from destroying my fingers i don’t know what is.
i am tired of shitty wifi with you. i love hokkaido now because i have gotten to know some special people in your family there. i don’t think i’ll ever tire of falling asleep on facetime audio with you. waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of your breathing. you know it’s weird. you’re not like most people. most people, their breathing slows when they fall asleep. yours quickens. i can only imagine your heart rate. you make my heart race, especially when i am on the phone with you. or especially when we are talking about what is going to be lost. you blow my fucking mind.
goodnight, b. you carry with you the greatest parts of me.