I want things
Not just inanimate objects. It's mostly people. And how I want people to be. And how I want them to be, to me. But you. You just are. Without me trying to fit you into this 'idea' in my head. Oh no. You carved your own shape. And you just inevitably, indubitably clicked, snapped, fell into place-- like you've always been there. I am sure you didn't do that on purpose. That is the beauty of it. Yes, the universe totally one-upped me on this one because I was convinced you did not exist. Maybe you're the revenge for me thumbing my nose at fate and telling it that nothing, nothing it throws can surprise me anymore. Sucker punch? I'm padded for it. Curve ball? I'm ready to hit it out of the ball park. A soft landing? Now. That threw me for a loop.
It's safer to lay it all out and lay it bare. My attempt to put a lid on it not only made the top come flying out it also hit me on the forehead. I went psycho. I find that if I just let things be, then I can handle this better. I'm done being angry at the whole thing. I'm done being sad. I'm done with disappointment. I'm done with sexualising this. I am done labelling this. And I have no illusions about anything else but the pleasure of knowing that you are breathing. This strange attachment is no more peculiar than how gravity holds things down. And I am still optimistically convinced that once the new toy shininess wears off, it'll peter down to a casual fondness. I'm just done trying to quantify how long that will take. I'm enjoying the view.
For all my cockiness, I am by nature soft. And I choose who to love and gently. But I love thoroughly. For want of a better term, a 'deep friendship' has been put on your box. How long did it take me to name you? Two seconds? To name means not to be owned but to be recognised, recognised apart from all others, that from every unique face in the world, I can look to yours and know utter calm. But let me softly remind you that I have not branded you. And guess what? For my sake, I never will.
I just wish you'd let this be and and accept that I can not be tempered, and I don't mean to overwhelm on purpose. I will not attempt to cross that fuzzy line.
"Love is the one thing stronger than desire and the only proper reason to resist temptation." ― Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body
It's safer to lay it all out and lay it bare. My attempt to put a lid on it not only made the top come flying out it also hit me on the forehead. I went psycho. I find that if I just let things be, then I can handle this better. I'm done being angry at the whole thing. I'm done being sad. I'm done with disappointment. I'm done with sexualising this. I am done labelling this. And I have no illusions about anything else but the pleasure of knowing that you are breathing. This strange attachment is no more peculiar than how gravity holds things down. And I am still optimistically convinced that once the new toy shininess wears off, it'll peter down to a casual fondness. I'm just done trying to quantify how long that will take. I'm enjoying the view.
For all my cockiness, I am by nature soft. And I choose who to love and gently. But I love thoroughly. For want of a better term, a 'deep friendship' has been put on your box. How long did it take me to name you? Two seconds? To name means not to be owned but to be recognised, recognised apart from all others, that from every unique face in the world, I can look to yours and know utter calm. But let me softly remind you that I have not branded you. And guess what? For my sake, I never will.
I just wish you'd let this be and and accept that I can not be tempered, and I don't mean to overwhelm on purpose. I will not attempt to cross that fuzzy line.
"Love is the one thing stronger than desire and the only proper reason to resist temptation." ― Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body