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.
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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.
Protected:
you are the favorite you know. my mom’s, my best friend’s, my online friend’s.
i just want to start over. god damnit i just want to start the fuck over.
loving you is too easy. it’s something all too familiar to me. i find it exhilarating to do it all again.
to think that we’ve come from you pushing my 4th grade best friend against the monkey bars because you were getting jealous of how close he was standing to me to you messaging me two kisses and 2.5 years later that you love the fuck out of me.
i read and write about stars all the time but here i am reading the stars and i am writing that it feels to me like they are telling me we are meant to be.
us. the perfect example of two people who are finding it impossible to escape each other. we can be gone for years at a time but come back to each other like nothing. the air tastes like vulnerability and open veins and spilled blood all over again. you knew me better than anyone did. we lost two years but i’m sure you’ll know me better than anyone does in no time.
on a side note, fuck time.
i love you. you’re my best friend. come. let’s get married and live in a house (with a lizard room) together. you make all of this too god damned easy.
matthew 2:1
i am convinced that god does not want us to cross paths again.
it is february 1st, hence the bible verse reference.
i am sorry i still care. my hands are shaking. if i could get any prayer answered directly i would ask to speak to you one last time.
b: 1
there is a clock on my dresser. i look at it sometimes when i wake up in the middle of the night. even though it is useless. even though it has been broken for over a year now. i don’t know why i haven’t thrown it out. i think way too often about how it is so easy to replace. that old time teller. how ironic that i feel like i don’t have the time to replace it.
time. what a construct. right now i am thinking in terms of it related to you. how much of it we have lost over the years. how much i wish i could bend it. go back and defy it so that we could start over. draw out every new memory we make as if it does not exist.
i love you b. there is the moon right outside my window and i know you look at it on your side of the earth every night and think of me. i have a shit ton of chemistry lab homework to do but i’m sitting here typing away my words for you. taking my time.
time. i don’t want to waste any more time when it comes to you. i am sorry for all of the years we lost. all of the minutes we could have spent in our bundle of intimacy. all of the seconds we could have made to last like hours. i am sorry for the amount it took for you to heal. for the amount it took for me to realize i fucked up.
i don’t want time to exist when it comes to you anymore. let me leave my clock on my dresser in peace. from now on the world is ours and we are in control of it. fuck time. fuck it all. the only good thing i think it has done was leading you back to me.
you know i can’t go a day without someone telling me they’ve seen you. how upsetting is that. that they feel obligated to tell me about you because they know i still care.
i’ve unfollowed you on instagram but i still find myself going to your page every night before i go to sleep even though it’s on private. why do i keep refreshing it. why do i keep going back to it. it’s like i’m expecting something different. that’s weird. you have that same effect on me.
goddamnit. there is a world out there that we could’ve built together, you and me. imagine that. the two of us using our hands to make something beautiful. like the time we were in bed and you told me to close my eyes while you felt me. “i want to surprise you.” i remember that shit. i loved that shit. feeling your hands work their way over my skin, not knowing where they’d travel to next. someone talked to me about buddhism the day after and when they mentioned nirvana all i could think of was that.
but imagine how good all of it would’ve been. i’d tell you that there are millions of oceans i want to swim in and you’d make them out of your palms. you’d tell me that there are millions of pan-fried grilled cheeses you want to eat and i’d use my hands to sculpt them like food of the gods. and at night i’ll kiss the magic out of your fingers.
i wonder what you tell people when they ask you what happened to us. i’m pretty sure you don’t tell them that you destroyed the world that never was. i’m pretty sure you make me seem like the bad guy. yeah i let you go but i only did that because i wanted to hate you more than i did.
i think you are full of shit. there are better things i can find in my trash can. the sad thing is even with gloves on i don’t feel like digging through it.
