Killing Time

I’m not really sure how to feel. Am I fabricated? Are my concerns? More often than not I feel our disagreements getting out of hand because I can’t control my tone, I can’t think straight and I let myself go at you for no solid reason. Does this mean something? Am I lashing out at you because I’m dissatisfied? What is it that I want? My life is morbidly, terminally uninteresting. So is yours. Are we just killing time? Where is the love? This time, I don’t blame you for feeling unloved. I simply don’t feel as passionately as I once did. Most things are bland. I think being constantly sad and mad at you at least allowed me to feel something. A rush from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows, and then back to those highs… Now that it’s peace, truce, calm waters… It’s like I don’t know how to love in such conditions. But I have the memory of loving you so deeply and so ardently that I can’t allow myself to throw it all away for uncertainty, or perhaps to fall into old habits of emotional rollercoasters. But would it really be self-sabotage? Are you really in it with me? I feel a very strong urge to test you. I want proof. I want something. Not anything. I want something very specific that will forever change the way I see you. But isn’t it unfair to lay such high expectations on someone else’s shoulders? I need you to read this and be disgusted at me. I need you to react. I need to feel your passion, more than love. I wanna feel it consume my body. I want it to consume my body and destroy me. I want you to destroy me, because I have worked too hard on learning not to destroy myself.

“I had never welcomed sleep so serenely in my life. There’d be plenty of time for mourning, I thought. It will come, probably on the sly, as I’ve heard these things always do, and there won’t be any getting off lightly, either. Anticipating sorrow to neutralize sorrow—that’s paltry, cowardly stuff, I told myself, knowing I was an ace practitioner of the craft. And what if it came fiercely? What if it came and didn’t let go, a sorrow that had come to stay, and did to me what longing for him had done on those nights when it seemed there was something so essential missing from my life that it might as well have been missing from my body, so that losing him now would be like losing a hand you could spot in every picture of yourself around the house, but without which you couldn’t possibly be you again. You lose it, as you always knew you would, and were even prepared to; but you can’t bring yourself to live with the loss. And hoping not to think of it, like praying not to dream of it, hurts just the same.”

- Call me by your name, André Aciman, 2007.

I don’t regret a single thing. the only thing I’d ever regret is if I’d ever come close to giving up on you. but that’s not possible, so I don’t regret a single thing.

i hope you know that, someday – 50 years from now or even less, when thinking about me is just an afterthought, a distant memory, one of those glimpses of nostalgia we have no control over – I hope you know that, even when that day comes, I won’t have stopped loving you. maybe I’ll be too big of a coward to say I’d leave everything behind and enjoy with you every last breath given to me on this earth. maybe I’ll have too many people I care about depending on me, and the weight of disappointing them will overcome my strive for real happiness, with you.

even if you never think of me again, the feeling of true love, true partnership, true respect, true care, true admiration, true hope, will never leave me. it’s printed on my soul. I cannot live without you in the sense that I am not me without the ball of fire that lives within me; you put it there. you’re it. my feelings for you reside within me. my feelings for myself reside within the spectral version of you that lives within me. I don’t exist without you.

what if love is forever ruined for me

I feel like all the life I had got sucked out of me. there is no coming back from this. I know that if I put in the work and waited a bit longer things would get better, but then they’d get worse, and then what?

this never ending cycle of misery after misery is simply not something I want to take part in anymore. I have one thing left to do. it’ll all go away. I don’t want to strive for things or feel happiness anymore. it’s pointless. my life is over and I don’t get a say anymore. something other than myself has taken control. I am not here anymore, not even as a spectator. not even to care to say goodbye.

I love sitting in the dark thinking about our first kiss. It seems unrealistic that both of us have had other first kisses. As I try not to think of that, therefore only feeding that very same thought, my mind travels to made up spaces where you kiss made up faces and tell them the things you tell me. The appreciation of virgin love has never made so much sense. Whoelse has had the pleasure to call you theirs? Why did they feel so entitled to a love that is now mine? Did you leave a bit of your heart with them? How much do I get?

But the reason why I turned off the lights was to think about the time when you first kissed me. You had me waiting what felt like a lifetime. You told me you loved me right then and there. I don’t doubt your reasons. You love me now and I never took you as a liar. That’s enough for me.

I am sitting in the dark thinking about the first time your lips touched my lips. What took you so long? How did I spend the previous 20 years without it? How am I gonna go another day without it? Why do we have to be so far apart? When will I ever feel your kisses again? I miss the way your body felt on my hands. I miss the moments when you were unstoppable. I miss waking up knowing that that whole day would be ours. I could do without the last nights, and last kisses, and last moments, and last pictures and last glances. That last glance, the last time I saw you. You had your hair down and it got caught up on your bag. Your hair-tie still feeling new to my wrist. I kept it on me at all times, as if it was the most valuable thing I own. I still do. It’s just a hair-tie, but it’s yours. I’d never lose something that is yours. But your love is mine.

never in my life have I felt so loved

it’s weird thinking that some months ago I didn’t even think I’d be alive by now. here I am. and you’re not here, but you’re with me. and I have never felt so loved.

I really oughta go