Your Door

Oh you, you gifted sweater wearing seeing hearing good-music-appreciating raw-writing thinking colorful person,

It has only been hours since I left, how come I miss you already? This beach house daddy rented for the holidays is huge. Humongous considering it’s only the three of us. Seasonal vacation houses are peculiar, piled on top of each other, they are not built for one particular family but to appeal to all those who stay here. Cold yet comforting, a little like you.

You, you are hard to crack open. Remember, back then, when I claimed that you were stuck inside your own head? But no, not now. You don’t get solved in my head. I can’t explain what it is. I embrace your inner struggles because, like street names, it is familiar. My anxieties find comfort in yours. I’d rather not explain it all now, because why dwell, why use the past to explain how I am? After all, the past has no bearing on the future. However, I will have you know that I struggle daily with wanting to be your fucking savior. I don’t know if you need a savior. It’s all assumption…

Your love is like a cat’s love for its human. I know I am your world but you only show it in bits and parts and only when it is the two of us. And although my moves contrive their panache from your love for me, loving you has weakened me. I have come to rely on you. It hurts when I reach for you and you aren’t there. You are always lagging behind; you are always dwelling in the fringes. Your aloof disposition evinces loneliness, and in more ways than one. Like the loneliness in my throat when I fail to, successfully, express my thoughts. Or, when I am ill and feel like no one knows how my body feels. As lonely as when Mommy left me, Justine and Daddy. It reminds me of (I just got brushed by a wave of pretty weed smell) death.

I believe that loneliness is not a conundrum, it’s a choice. And it can be defeated. It is human intuition, a mirror inside us, to either stare into or smother in trust. I’m trying to build the trust. I want us to be one. I wish to make us discernible.
You are mine and I wear you with pride. Your insides are my insides and I love you like a prego pony loves her body. More than life. I love you as close to unconditionally a human can. I am not scared of losing you or feel malicious towards you. A part of you has settled in me, forever. I will always, and have always believed in you. There is not much more to say except that sometimes, I feel this urge to elope with you. Do people even elope these days?

Love always,
P-lady.

Ps when I get back, let’s get high and make love in the couch while blasting that Beat Happening record? I’ll even let you pull my hair and there is a bowl of caramel in the fridge 😉
Pps My grammar and punctuation are all fucked up. But I really don’t care. I know you might, but not too awful much.


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