And there he lies...
I say these things to him, very hyperbolic things. Things that take years to fully feel...and yet having these words run through my head makes me think that the seeds of the depth of my words will soon grow into parallel emotional profoundness.
The fear of letting him in signifies the fact that he is. And for some reason, I'm not afraid of him hurting me. I'm afraid of thinking too much, of thinking that this feeling of comfort in this romantic realm, of him calling me brillant and "beau," of this kind of acceptance makes him unworthy. I wouldn't want to be part of a club that would have me. A university's quality goes down once they accept me. A test is easy when you pass it...on and on and on. I'm afraid of doing what I always do...of not letting things get too good, because the only way you can go from then is down. And I feel that I didn't have to do anything. I just was, and he liked it. And I feel sometimes like I already won, and that there's nothing left to do. Then he breaks out the paper towels, he remembers my toothbrush, he tells me where not to drink, and my pupils dialate that much more to get it all in. And I stop and think...that all I can do is be better for him so he'll like me more. My constant victories are but higher places to start from. What if there is no ceiling?
Why, once I envision a future with us, do I make myself stop? Why can't I call him my boyfriend (minus the fact that i've known him for a week and a half, and that's a huge word)? Why are all my relaxed tendancies, my take it day by day attitude...why are they all just me being scared that something will fuck up? If I stay in today, I won't have to think about tomorrow. If I envision a future with us, what happens if something goes wrong and it doesn't come true? What if I do what I'm so desperately scared of doing, and focus on what I don't like instead of what I adore? What happens if I let my neurotic overthinking self intervene and fuck up one of the best things i've felt? Why don't I let myself like things? Why don't I let myself get too comfortable? At this point in time, I love him for making me question this. I welcome this personal growth and overcoming, and I welcome the unseeming package it came in. I welcome the beautiful days ahead wrapped in cloudy skies, frigid wind, and general discomfort. I welcome inner turmoil, constant self-interrogations and insuing Melancholy, knowing that they are but the sculpting imprints of my deeper self using this beautiful unknowing man as my muse. I welcome my inner revolution and the foreigner who instigated it. Conversation, thought, meditation, contemplation, all ideas and wishes lead to nothing unless brought to life. I hope a menial five dollar purchase is not what is pushing me to change, I hope it is a will to power and an actual drive. We'll see when I wake up tomorrow and read this again. For now, it's off to a character analysis of someone from a play for my Survey II class.
Thank you, Michael.
I should put you in a bag and sell you in nightclubs. You'd make me a lot of money. :-)
Somehow, you're wearing down the callouses that have protected me from so many. I'll tell you when/if it's done if that was a good thing.
Like the oil reserves in a few years, I'm out.
-Tony.
The fear of letting him in signifies the fact that he is. And for some reason, I'm not afraid of him hurting me. I'm afraid of thinking too much, of thinking that this feeling of comfort in this romantic realm, of him calling me brillant and "beau," of this kind of acceptance makes him unworthy. I wouldn't want to be part of a club that would have me. A university's quality goes down once they accept me. A test is easy when you pass it...on and on and on. I'm afraid of doing what I always do...of not letting things get too good, because the only way you can go from then is down. And I feel that I didn't have to do anything. I just was, and he liked it. And I feel sometimes like I already won, and that there's nothing left to do. Then he breaks out the paper towels, he remembers my toothbrush, he tells me where not to drink, and my pupils dialate that much more to get it all in. And I stop and think...that all I can do is be better for him so he'll like me more. My constant victories are but higher places to start from. What if there is no ceiling?
Why, once I envision a future with us, do I make myself stop? Why can't I call him my boyfriend (minus the fact that i've known him for a week and a half, and that's a huge word)? Why are all my relaxed tendancies, my take it day by day attitude...why are they all just me being scared that something will fuck up? If I stay in today, I won't have to think about tomorrow. If I envision a future with us, what happens if something goes wrong and it doesn't come true? What if I do what I'm so desperately scared of doing, and focus on what I don't like instead of what I adore? What happens if I let my neurotic overthinking self intervene and fuck up one of the best things i've felt? Why don't I let myself like things? Why don't I let myself get too comfortable? At this point in time, I love him for making me question this. I welcome this personal growth and overcoming, and I welcome the unseeming package it came in. I welcome the beautiful days ahead wrapped in cloudy skies, frigid wind, and general discomfort. I welcome inner turmoil, constant self-interrogations and insuing Melancholy, knowing that they are but the sculpting imprints of my deeper self using this beautiful unknowing man as my muse. I welcome my inner revolution and the foreigner who instigated it. Conversation, thought, meditation, contemplation, all ideas and wishes lead to nothing unless brought to life. I hope a menial five dollar purchase is not what is pushing me to change, I hope it is a will to power and an actual drive. We'll see when I wake up tomorrow and read this again. For now, it's off to a character analysis of someone from a play for my Survey II class.
Thank you, Michael.
I should put you in a bag and sell you in nightclubs. You'd make me a lot of money. :-)
Somehow, you're wearing down the callouses that have protected me from so many. I'll tell you when/if it's done if that was a good thing.
Like the oil reserves in a few years, I'm out.
-Tony.