Filtered to Spectre
I am so so sorry. I am STILL so so sorry. I love you. I think the world of you. Hell, my world is you.
Which is sort of me looking broody, because I couldn't find a 'I'm sorry' photo on short notice. But I DID order you lots of presents which will arrive all day long tomorrow!
I keep thinking I'll be okay and then something else occurs to me. I'm not used to feeling my heart beating and it still keeps me up nights. I'm not used to having to fear...anything. Which probably made me seem much braver than I am because apparently now I am afraid of everything. And I know I don't have to fear death, because I know what it is. I was so comfortable dead. I really was. It was nice. But no one else was comfortable with it...clearly. And now I am experiencing what you all experience (you, darling, in particular) and fuck me. And I don't want to do that to anyone again and what if I miss something? And I feel torn right in two, as if I was expriencing the pain of the pull anyway. Only...this is worse. It's worse.
But hey, I'm talking, right?
I'm experiencing a midlife crisis and I only just got my life back! The last time I remember my body being alive, I was twenty-five. Now I'm thirty-nine. And does my body take into account the time I was dead, or am I actually twenty-five again, just...thirty-nine in spirit? Or do I really only have forty years left? This damn experience doesn't come with an owner's manual. And since forty years is as long as I have existed, it doesn't seem that long at all when I was looking at eternity before. And I know I'll have the eternity again but that's when it's all creepy again. And I get so tired now. And I pulled a muscle with Mary and thought I actually broke my...well anyway... And I start to obsess and worry... What if I get cancer. What if I get typoid? What if I die of consumption because I have no immune system?! And then my heart starts to beat faster and I panic because what if it's a heart attack?!
There's good things too. Like the way my heart flutters when I see you. Or the way you make me short of breath. The way I'm describing it is rather like a long jog...but you know what I mean (I hope...) My stomach jumbles itself up in fluttery little knots when I think of you and I find it rather charming. That never happened before. And I don't think I'll ever get used to it. It won't ever get old. You make me tingle all over. And in those moments, fuck I'm so glad I'm alive...
I'm sorry I couldn't say anything of this outloud. It's too hard to think when I've got racey heart and obsessy mind and panic, panic, panic, but that...all of that...that's what's going on in my head. That and I'm sorry. And I still don't think I can talk about it in person yet. I'm not really...peopley. But we can talk here. I can be good with that.
I love you.
Which is sort of me looking broody, because I couldn't find a 'I'm sorry' photo on short notice. But I DID order you lots of presents which will arrive all day long tomorrow!
I keep thinking I'll be okay and then something else occurs to me. I'm not used to feeling my heart beating and it still keeps me up nights. I'm not used to having to fear...anything. Which probably made me seem much braver than I am because apparently now I am afraid of everything. And I know I don't have to fear death, because I know what it is. I was so comfortable dead. I really was. It was nice. But no one else was comfortable with it...clearly. And now I am experiencing what you all experience (you, darling, in particular) and fuck me. And I don't want to do that to anyone again and what if I miss something? And I feel torn right in two, as if I was expriencing the pain of the pull anyway. Only...this is worse. It's worse.
But hey, I'm talking, right?
I'm experiencing a midlife crisis and I only just got my life back! The last time I remember my body being alive, I was twenty-five. Now I'm thirty-nine. And does my body take into account the time I was dead, or am I actually twenty-five again, just...thirty-nine in spirit? Or do I really only have forty years left? This damn experience doesn't come with an owner's manual. And since forty years is as long as I have existed, it doesn't seem that long at all when I was looking at eternity before. And I know I'll have the eternity again but that's when it's all creepy again. And I get so tired now. And I pulled a muscle with Mary and thought I actually broke my...well anyway... And I start to obsess and worry... What if I get cancer. What if I get typoid? What if I die of consumption because I have no immune system?! And then my heart starts to beat faster and I panic because what if it's a heart attack?!
There's good things too. Like the way my heart flutters when I see you. Or the way you make me short of breath. The way I'm describing it is rather like a long jog...but you know what I mean (I hope...) My stomach jumbles itself up in fluttery little knots when I think of you and I find it rather charming. That never happened before. And I don't think I'll ever get used to it. It won't ever get old. You make me tingle all over. And in those moments, fuck I'm so glad I'm alive...
I'm sorry I couldn't say anything of this outloud. It's too hard to think when I've got racey heart and obsessy mind and panic, panic, panic, but that...all of that...that's what's going on in my head. That and I'm sorry. And I still don't think I can talk about it in person yet. I'm not really...peopley. But we can talk here. I can be good with that.
I love you.