what the heck
my turn. my turn my turn. leave it to me. i'll go.
hey, im at the airport. did you read the-? yes, well…hey, has it started snowing? I’m in the big hall and its too dark out, the glass just reflects the lights inside. has it? i read the report and it should. dress warm, don’t forget.
looks like it’s falling on us this year. look, i don’t know how to say this to you face to face, i’ve overcome a lot of things but i still can’t face you when you’re crying. are you crying? god, don’t answer that. i’ll hold, put the phone down, grab a tissue. i’m sorry i have to do this here. i panic, i don’t know how to react, and i’ll want to abandon everything, if one drop fell out the rims i’d break down and drop my ticket, but i can’t do that anymore. hey, I’m sorry. forgive me? no? i’m going anyway, you don’t have to. I just know, i know i can’t stand in that apartment with you and the snow outside washing something away again, just softly scraping at our surface until your cheeks are bleeding red, pushed up and you’re trying to shove snow down my shirt, and it slips down my spine cold when i’m an imprint, and you fall right with me, and in the foot deep hole your breath is warm on my nose. we hide in the snow but the snow blankets lots of things other than kissing, like reality, i can’t even see where i’m stepping, and you’re driving through slush every night to pick me up and the snow’s so thick it even broke your windshield wipers. i can’t stand in that apartment tonight with the tree and the lights dimmed and let you strip me all over the living room again with the blinds drawn tight, draping clothes like garlands, surprises for the next morning. a sock in the sink, belt flung between the cactus pots, boxers on a picture frame, another fatuous sock on the bedroom door handle. you’re not gonna let go of me and i’ll struggle a few times and settle down and it’s always kind of like that, me settling for it, for you, i never know how to use my own God damned hands, i never know how to love you, kris, i’m sorry i have these problems with myself, i’m sorry i drive you crazy for reasons you don’t even understand, there could pass another hundred lifetimes and i still won’t find anyone as good to me as you are, and i don’t deserve a hundredth of your kindness. im 23 and i cant be this selfish, ive dug a hole here and i’ve been pathetically hiding. you can do so much better but you never want to, you’re so stupid. dont cry, ok, look, im at the airport, i have to board now, i can’t. god. no i’m fine. i’m making the decision for you this time, sorry. no, i’m boarding in fifteen, you won’t make it here. i am going home right now, kris. i am going home. but this isn’t goodbye forever, okay? maybe
maybe there’s another universe where i deserve you a little more, and maybe in this place you’re the elusive one, but never on purpose, not like me, you’re the one who is just by some rude fate coincidentally never here when i need you and im the one crying in the shower all the time because in this place i have the luxury to know how. here im a kid in the toy store, and im taking myself shopping with him strapped into the little cart, and he’s holding you at arms length marveling how much he wants to take you home, with every cell in my body and his telling him this is not what he needs. every trip at the checkout he’d attach himself all four limbs around my leg and i’m always too weak hearted to shake him off. put that back or i’m leaving you here, you can have it if you pay for it yourself, i tell him these things parents say all the time, but i guess i’m not a very convincing parent. i’m just the kid. i need things too often. you’re up at five thirty on a wednesday morning buttoning your suit cuffs and you won’t let me help you. you’re always so far away from home, which is here, home is here in this place. you’re always trying to love me but you’re not good with it, too clumsy, a little awkward, you lose your radar, it never works for the two of us. here i’m the one waiting at home on christmas eve, and its two when you come back, and on the couch half asleep i listen to you punch in the alarm password. you turn on the light and it’s like we’re meeting all over again. you suddenly transpire barefoot in our house without breathing a word beforehand, and it wrecks me. everything i’d been churning burns the moment you pull me into you, and i’ve just finished crying, yet again, this needy kid, but it’s always been that noisy children got what they wanted. you’ll make love to me and leave in the morning again. you won’t know how luck just makes you fuck up so bad that i’m tearing myself while you’re across the world, and yet draws back just short of wrecking our little matchstick hut and lights our fireplace to recompense. this time it’s you leaving me because i’m too weak and i can’t just fucking rough it out. i’m gonna do things like call you in the middle of a conference panting shallow breaths and whispering your name, and you’ll have to step out and get me off and in the end it’s still me driving you crazy, except you’d still blame yourself for everything. you think that’s somehow your fault, that i’ve become this shamelessly needy, and this time around you have the audacity to decide for me that i can do better, and this time around i’d wish i were different in some other universe. we just never win, kris.
look, the attendants are calling. no, don’t do that. beijing is a big city, you’d lose yourself in its streets. I have to go. water all the plants, eat your breakfast everyday, don’t set the heater too high at night, you start kicking off your blankets. dont forget to eat your-what? am i coming back? well...good question.
what a good question.
going to probably ease off any planned kris/luhan writing for a while because writing them debilitates me these days
hey, im at the airport. did you read the-? yes, well…hey, has it started snowing? I’m in the big hall and its too dark out, the glass just reflects the lights inside. has it? i read the report and it should. dress warm, don’t forget.
looks like it’s falling on us this year. look, i don’t know how to say this to you face to face, i’ve overcome a lot of things but i still can’t face you when you’re crying. are you crying? god, don’t answer that. i’ll hold, put the phone down, grab a tissue. i’m sorry i have to do this here. i panic, i don’t know how to react, and i’ll want to abandon everything, if one drop fell out the rims i’d break down and drop my ticket, but i can’t do that anymore. hey, I’m sorry. forgive me? no? i’m going anyway, you don’t have to. I just know, i know i can’t stand in that apartment with you and the snow outside washing something away again, just softly scraping at our surface until your cheeks are bleeding red, pushed up and you’re trying to shove snow down my shirt, and it slips down my spine cold when i’m an imprint, and you fall right with me, and in the foot deep hole your breath is warm on my nose. we hide in the snow but the snow blankets lots of things other than kissing, like reality, i can’t even see where i’m stepping, and you’re driving through slush every night to pick me up and the snow’s so thick it even broke your windshield wipers. i can’t stand in that apartment tonight with the tree and the lights dimmed and let you strip me all over the living room again with the blinds drawn tight, draping clothes like garlands, surprises for the next morning. a sock in the sink, belt flung between the cactus pots, boxers on a picture frame, another fatuous sock on the bedroom door handle. you’re not gonna let go of me and i’ll struggle a few times and settle down and it’s always kind of like that, me settling for it, for you, i never know how to use my own God damned hands, i never know how to love you, kris, i’m sorry i have these problems with myself, i’m sorry i drive you crazy for reasons you don’t even understand, there could pass another hundred lifetimes and i still won’t find anyone as good to me as you are, and i don’t deserve a hundredth of your kindness. im 23 and i cant be this selfish, ive dug a hole here and i’ve been pathetically hiding. you can do so much better but you never want to, you’re so stupid. dont cry, ok, look, im at the airport, i have to board now, i can’t. god. no i’m fine. i’m making the decision for you this time, sorry. no, i’m boarding in fifteen, you won’t make it here. i am going home right now, kris. i am going home. but this isn’t goodbye forever, okay? maybe
maybe there’s another universe where i deserve you a little more, and maybe in this place you’re the elusive one, but never on purpose, not like me, you’re the one who is just by some rude fate coincidentally never here when i need you and im the one crying in the shower all the time because in this place i have the luxury to know how. here im a kid in the toy store, and im taking myself shopping with him strapped into the little cart, and he’s holding you at arms length marveling how much he wants to take you home, with every cell in my body and his telling him this is not what he needs. every trip at the checkout he’d attach himself all four limbs around my leg and i’m always too weak hearted to shake him off. put that back or i’m leaving you here, you can have it if you pay for it yourself, i tell him these things parents say all the time, but i guess i’m not a very convincing parent. i’m just the kid. i need things too often. you’re up at five thirty on a wednesday morning buttoning your suit cuffs and you won’t let me help you. you’re always so far away from home, which is here, home is here in this place. you’re always trying to love me but you’re not good with it, too clumsy, a little awkward, you lose your radar, it never works for the two of us. here i’m the one waiting at home on christmas eve, and its two when you come back, and on the couch half asleep i listen to you punch in the alarm password. you turn on the light and it’s like we’re meeting all over again. you suddenly transpire barefoot in our house without breathing a word beforehand, and it wrecks me. everything i’d been churning burns the moment you pull me into you, and i’ve just finished crying, yet again, this needy kid, but it’s always been that noisy children got what they wanted. you’ll make love to me and leave in the morning again. you won’t know how luck just makes you fuck up so bad that i’m tearing myself while you’re across the world, and yet draws back just short of wrecking our little matchstick hut and lights our fireplace to recompense. this time it’s you leaving me because i’m too weak and i can’t just fucking rough it out. i’m gonna do things like call you in the middle of a conference panting shallow breaths and whispering your name, and you’ll have to step out and get me off and in the end it’s still me driving you crazy, except you’d still blame yourself for everything. you think that’s somehow your fault, that i’ve become this shamelessly needy, and this time around you have the audacity to decide for me that i can do better, and this time around i’d wish i were different in some other universe. we just never win, kris.
look, the attendants are calling. no, don’t do that. beijing is a big city, you’d lose yourself in its streets. I have to go. water all the plants, eat your breakfast everyday, don’t set the heater too high at night, you start kicking off your blankets. dont forget to eat your-what? am i coming back? well...good question.
what a good question.
going to probably ease off any planned kris/luhan writing for a while because writing them debilitates me these days