Enter mushiness, so you can probably stop reading as it's more for me/him anyway...
You've become this singular ray of light for me, that somehow you'll make everything okay. No pressure. Just how I feel. Lying there I wish I could express myself as eloquently as you seem to think I can. There aren't exactly words. I wish that in those moments you could read me like you do others. I am taken aback at times with how I feel when I look at you. It doesn't matter what you have to say. It doesn't matter your past, your family, what your world entails. I would have it all for you. I think you feel like you need to protect me from certain things that you've experienced, and perhaps this is true to some extent. I'd rather have you err on the side of thinking that I can take it and even if I don't understand I'll accept.
You asked me once if you told me your whole family was vampires how would I react. I would love you the same. I will jump off that, and any cliff for you. (Metaphorically of course.) It doesn't make any sense if you think about it, and I feel the same shadow that you do. I don't think it's anything other than the shadow our hearts are forming on our minds falling behind in the quickness of our pace. We are spinning, or falling, or whatever directional or non-directional movement metaphor you choose at a rapid pace - and we are both aware of this. However, I have stopped the pretense that I can deny it and pretend that you are not as important to me as you are. I can't sit there and tell myself I'd be okay if you were to leave, that you can live your life without considerations to me and I'd be fine. Such fallacies of a mind conditioned in this society of those who don't believe - or can't, or won't. Who tell you that it takes forever to truly know someone.
No, I don't know everything about you, I don't know the nuances of your mind as I do my own. I am okay with that. Honestly, if you don't feel you can tell me something, you don't have to. I am okay with not knowing, when you are comfortable you can tell me - you can keep it from me forever. It doesn't matter to me anymore, these things I don't know. I will ask when I feel like it is something I should know - otherwise, I hope you can tell me when you believe something matters.
You know where my insecurity lies, and there really isn't anything you can do to resolve the matter other than exist as you have been. I just fear that she was your primary and somehow was replaced though she still wanted and wants you. I do not want history to repeat itself with me. We both realized that we started this ness way before either one of us was conscious in the matter. If you believe in fate, there you have it?
I realize that I do trust you, probably more than anyone. It probably seemed trivial to you that I didn't flinch when you rested your hand on my neck, but that's huge to me - it's like a subconscious confirmation of what my consciousness tells me to feel. I feel like I can not put on a facade and it's okay. Thank you! For accepting me, for loving me, for taking my world and not running away, for being the most amazing person ever, for not really getting upset when my foolish mind doesn't think about the words I say. I'm not sure about everything we have, or life, or... anything - but, I'm very much so, even if accidentally, in love.
Lyrical-ness: "Come on, come on / Turn a little faster / Come on, come on / The world will follow after / Come on, come on / Cause everybody's after love"
I know that the words catch themselves in my throat sometimes. I hope that you can derive the meaning from my actions and what's written all over my face. Thank you for your patience, your understanding.
Oh, and if it was all a bit too much you can delete this too. I just realized I wrote a novel. My bad.
You too have become someone so significant to me that it's almost scary that when I wake, it's you that I immediately think of. It's not a pressure at all for me and I can only hope that it's the same for you. It's not an eloquence that you need as I truly do see it in your actions. Your words, be they spoken or otherwise simply add the detail or confirmation to such. I'm glad that I can't read you. It leaves all the more mystery there to solve over time.
ReplyDeleteI started writing the bit above as response to following what you have in the order in which it was placed. Then I realized that there was too much to think about in keeping it orderly. Instead, I think it would be more natural to spill it out.
It's not that there are secrets and things that I need to keep you from as much as it is my lack of understanding how to express things. It seems that it's once in a great while that I am able to blossom forward and voice all that I am feeling. Honestly, I think I know what's keeping me back. There was a book called "Matilda" that I remember from childhood. It was about a girl that had an ability to move things with her mind. In the story, she developed this power as she was constantly imprisoned in a society that left no challenge for her. There was no place for her to vent her creativity of spirit and mind. I think that I write and sing and paint and create to express my should and cry out to the world to see what it is that I have inside. In the times that you were given the small chances to peek into what I had made, what feeling did you get? Thinking back on it, it was all simply the broken heart of a man illustrated on paper or spewed out from the fingertips to the keyboard. I think that I can't do it anymore because I don't have to. If it's you that has captured my "voice" and taken it from me, then it's simply because your lips have caught hold of mine. If I'm not able to write, then it's because my hand is full with yours or my arms busy with an embrace. That's a trade that I'm willing to make. If you feel that you're lacking in some way of expression, dash the thoughts aside for I think the same thing of you. It's in the quiet moments of solace that we are able to provide a written explanation of all that we feel and that's enough for me.
I know it doesn't address it all...I am off to go start laundry...I was also distracted by a phone call. All being said, it was a novel that I enjoyed reading.