right now.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.
-Richard Siken

-Richard Siken

I'm sorry. I wish you were here to hold me and I sorry. I want to tell you when I'm hurting but I'm scared I'll hurt you. I miss you and I'm so bad at everything and I'm sorry.

I just can't.

I'm trying to take deep breaths but I'm shaking and I'm shaking and I just can't (breathe?). Outstretched hands in front of me, quivering. This is why I hate my name and the price that comes with it. The curse of knowing the future and not being able to stop the cracks in the pavement. Have I ever told you about this? No, of course not. I seem crazy. Hand shaking, skittering. Crazy. My breath shudders because what else is there to do. I am stuck in a loop, taking the first bite of an apple over and over again but never the last licking of lips. Never the satisfaction. It's a sore feeling I get in my kneecaps every time, the memory of sprinting until they knock together and my whole body folding in half. I am nothing more than fabric in the wind, the catching of the sunlight in what is left of your broken glass. There is the cut from the glass from the dream I once had, and you lay among it all, sweet syruped lies dripping from your lips. How many times did you tell me it would all be okay? Could you stop time to stop the itching in my bones? Can we keep the glass from dropping? Because no one should be crying over spilled milk, but here I am ripping my guts out of my stomach to show them to an anonymous source. And I'm pretty sure this nightmare is the worst of all, shadowy hands reaching away from my body, to grab what I can only hope is mine. Something other than my intestines, a noose wrapped softly along my neck taking place of the fingerprints and kisses you once left. You're gone. I've shot up, eclipses instead of eyes, and there are the withered tears again. It's not spilled milk I'm crying over, it's not. I just can't bring myself to breathe, so instead I heave, and cough up the glass I choked down. There is a whisper wrapping around my soul, and I'm praying it crushes me before my vision becomes whole. Maybe I should have gouged my eyes out before the feeling of my heart pounding against my chest stopped me in my tracks. Here I am frozen, watching the same moment over and over again. The pure white snow covering up the pain that your tracks made. The tracks being made again, and the snowflakes falling again, and the dancing and the same moment over and over again. I don't want to watch you leave, but there are your tracks walking away from me. And there is the snow. I don't want you to go.

Wanting you.

taken and edited by the ever lovely Sarah Robinson

Unloading the words that are swimming in my mind, under my skin...
I want to go on a date with you. Sometimes I regret agreeing to date you before we went on a date because sometimes I feel as though we will never get the chance to actually go on one. And it makes me sad. I want to get dressed up for you, I have multiple date outfits planned just for you. I want to giggle and be intimate over dinner and have deep conversations and dive into your thoughts. I want to get to know you more and more, over drinks and dessert. I'm curious what you'll order and whether you'll pull out my chair or we'll both lean in to whisper sweet nothings. I want those moments with you.
It doesn't even have to be a dinner date, I'll do anything one on one with you! I'll volunteer with you or cook you dinner or serenade you into the night. I still owe you a homemade pie and I want to make pizza for you or play silly board games or even play truth or dare. I want us to go back to getting to know each other, because even though I know your presence, there' so much more I want to know about you. Let's ask each other a billion questions and really force raw truth and open up. I love when we open up.
I simply want spend more time with you, getting to know and adore you. And I feel bad saying this because you're sick right now and I feel so bad. I just feel so bad. I'm trying my hardest to take care of you, but there's only so much I can do. I just want to make you feel better. I try to rub your back even when my arms get heavy, and cradle your head when you rest on my shoulder. I try to hold your hand when you reach for me and sing to you and comfort you. Because you make me so happy and you really do deserve it. I just want to take care of you.

And I wish we could have gone out to eat for your birthday. I wish I hadn't been sick because I wanted to take you out. I just want to go places with you, I want to camp out under the stars or squeeze your hand in a scary movie theatre. I want to show you off to the world, but even more so... I want to get lost in our own little world. Just me and you.

Just me and you.
xo

 

unfair.

What you do is so unfair to me. I don't know if you realize the weight of your own pain, that you put upon my shoulders. I want to help you. I've tried so hard to make you happy and make you have hope and all these things but you continue to bash everything. And then you tell me that you're alone. I'M THERE FOR YOU EVERY TIME YOU NEED SOMEONE AND YOU COMPLAIN THAT NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU. At this point it's just fucking mean. You live across the country and you're stressing me out and making me feel as though I hold your life. I'm so scared that if I break away, you will attempt suicide. You just texted me about killing yourself and I don't know how to help you. I try so hard, I try so hard. I've sat on the phone with you for hours trying to comfort you and be there for you and it's getting to the point where I do not know what else I can do. I want to help you, but you won't let yourself get help. I'm trying. I'm trying but this is too much. It's unfair for me to give so much to you and you to tell me you have no one. It's unfair for you to drain me. It's unfair for you to get mad at me and it's unfair. It's just unfair. You make me cry all the time. I can't hold you up forever. I'm trying so hard but you're making me weak and you're making me a mess. Every time I devote a day to trying to help you pick up the pieces, I get depressed. It's a plague, I know, and I don't blame you. You're not trying to hurt me, but you are. I was so depressed I started to sabotage myself and attacked the relationship I care about the most right now. I can't have that. I don't want that. It's unfair to me.

You make other people feel alone because you feel alone, and it's not fair. You can't force your depression and destruction on other people. Eventually you're going to have to pick yourself up. Pick yourself up.

Hey, you.

You make me so happy I don't even know how to express it. Sometimes I just sit here and smile and don't know what to do because I'm too radiant to function. Goodness, I miss you when you're gone, but seeing you anew is always all worth it. You make me believe in myself, I'm not quite sure how you do it, but you make me feel beautiful and worth it. Living life with you is my breath of fresh air and my embracing the sunshine. I often think you're the cause of all good weather because you genuinely brighten my day. Sometimes my thoughts get jumbled and I get sad and I want you to know that it's all in my head. But you're helping me to use my heart more and more each day. So thank you. I can't wait to fall asleep in your arms.

Glowing.

I was thinking a lot because that's what I always do. I was thinking about some of our recent conversations and ways I could have better explained myself. All of a sudden, in my head, I was saying "because I trust you." I really do trust you and it's scary to me because often the people I've trusted have hurt me the most. But with you it's not as scary. I trust you. And I'm laying here thinking about the fortune cookies you gave me because you know I collect fortunes and the sweet pea lotion because I always call you Sweet Tea and how you got me a copy of my favorite book and I'm actually starting to tear up as I write this. I know I sometimes get caught in my own thoughts... But my goodness, I can feel my heart glowing right now. You make me so happy. And I really do trust you. And I think I do fit into your life. You're right about so many things, and I just love existing with you. I can't wait till I can kiss you next, my Sweet Tea, because you're as lovely as ever and you make me glow.
Thank you.