I write to you,

raw emotion and childish intrigue

concealed behind pretty sentences.

I am too much of a coward

to be honest by looking at your face,

so I use coy mystery to communicate my helplessness.

Can you unmask the longing behind these fancy words?

Last night, I turned to Jack and Johnny for comfort.

This morning, Hendricks whispered something delicious

into my ear.

And now, wide awake and sober,

I turn to you, in the hope that you tell me what it is

the hell I am hoping for.

January 2, 2023.

December 13, 2022.

There are some places I expect to find him; like the songs we shared, the smell of his favorite perfume or the places we spent time together. I know heartbreak will find me there, and I've learnt to make some peace with that.

What's much harder to cope with is when longing finds me in the places we never shared. The mornings of grass we never sat on, the sound of birds I've never known, the plan of owning a dog together he never asked me to. The hardest part of all of this is that I keep finding little pieces of him when I'm not looking; in places I didn't know he'd been.

December 12, 2022.

She's only one blink away to hate you.

But then she chose to stop blinking,

closed her eyes,

opened them little by little,

looked at every inch of your face,

and smiled.

Cursing silently

thinking, "Damn, I didn't know

I've fallen this deep."

December 6, 2022.

Ugh.

It seems I like you a lot.

I mean, a lot a lot. Like, I think about you more than once in an hour. And don't think that's an insignificant amount! I'm busy-ass person. I have shit to do. I have loose ends to tie up. I have projects to complete. I schedule my time very carefully, so devoting approximately five minutes of each hour to you says a lot about what you currently mean to me. Okay. It's more than five minutes an hour. It's ten. It's probably more than ten. Sometimes less. It depends on the hour. I don't know how many minutes an hour it is. Get off my back.

Whatever. So I think you're pretty cool. It's no big deal. Except it is a big deal. I'm kind of nuts about you. Not like, bend-over backwards and give-up-my-whole-life for you nuts. I have priorities in order. I have my shit together. This is reality, not a low budget romcom, which means you aren't the focal point of everything. I have a full life, and it's thriving without you.

Except it's also thriving with you.

And it's so damn ridiculously wonderful to have you along.

Because you make everything a solid 25% more awesome. I think that's an acceptable percentage for now. If things were 50% more awesome around you, I'd know the rest of my life was pretty bleak. If they were 10% more awesome, you'd require some reconsidering. But 25% seems about right. 25% seems like the precise amount of awesome someone ought to add into your life. Recalculated once the honeymoon phase has concluded, of course. Don't you agree?

You are working out for me. I hope I am also working out for you.

Because the thing is, I can't get you off my mind. I think about your body way too often. I get the sound of your laugh stuck in my head. I keep getting these weird impulses to buy something I think you would like or to text you something sickeningly adorable. You make me feel all flustered and off-centered. And it's leading me towards this somewhat nauseating realization. 

I think that I might be in love with you.

I think you might have worn down my defenses. I think you might have trampled through my boundaries. I think I may have accidentally written my priority list to bump you problematically closer to the top. Because you make it so damn hard for me not to. Because you show me more compassion than everyone else I know combined. Because you're there whenever I need you, but absent when I need to be alone. Because you get me. Because I get you. Because when I'm around you, life seems a solid 42% easier, even though that percentage seems too high.

But you make me not want to recalculate.

You make me want to throw percentages right out the window. Because dammit. I think that I'm in love with you.

All the odds against it be damned.

November 14, 2022.

Nothing lasts forever

Not me,

Not you,

Not love

But while we’re here

Let’s give eternity

something to think about

November 5, 2022.

“Will we stop talking to each other one day?” I asked.

“Given all of things we’ve gone through, I don’t think we’ll be able to stop talking ever,” he answered.

November 4, 2022.

I didn't want to fall in love with you, but you need to understand that it wasn't my power. It wasn't me that decided to see you and feel every feeling at once. It wasn't me that looked at you and immediately fell harder than my soul could handle. If I had the opportunity to change what I feel, trust me, I would. But I am not God neither the universe or whatever you believe in. I can't do anything against it because it wasn't my decision. It was my heart that looked at you and thought he is the one.

October 10, 2022.