Letter to the one I no longer hate
I can still inhale your scent, and reminisce each and every word you told me. No matter how many podcasts I listen to, about everything being impermanent, and everyone being fundamentally alone, and love never going to last. I still want to wish it’s true, those lies, those sweet nothings that we’re being fed by the media, because they cash in on our insecurities. I still remember the way you kissed me, the way I could smell myself and you, in my mouth, I couldn’t believe it when it was happening, and still can’t wrap my head around it. I find you beautiful, I find you cool, I find you charming, and I really, truly wish you were here, to distract me, from reality. From stupid, fucked up, judgemental, prejudiced reality. I want to let my guard down, I want to show myself to you, I want to take whatever we had to all the levels it could possibly go to. And the mere thought of you even lusting after someone else, sends daggers through my heart. Please don’t look at her, no matter how thin her thighs are, no matter how flawless her skin is, no matter how funny she is, or beautiful she is, or smart she is, or cool she is. I want you to be me. I want us to merge, and let all the lines between us blur, and just be with one another, just like we were…with no hopes of any amazing future together, no expectations even for the next moment. My trembling trepidation at being found out that I was expressing my desire for another human being, and not just spiritually and with that not being an obstacle, but a thrill, an adventure. I wish you were with me right now. I wanna kiss you. And go on kissing you. And go on kissing you, and never want it to stop. Not because it was pleasant, but because I want your presence. I want to keep you. I love you, in the most selfish way it is possible to do so. For my own pleasure, for my own peace, for my own happiness, and know, that this love of mine will only last as long as you’re able to evoke these feelings in me. Regardless of you giving me, a hardcore atheist that Bible, which I interpreted as innovative evangelism, I now would like to choose to think of it as you giving me something precious to you. You carried that Bible around through your teenage, your tough times, those times when almost everyone’s self esteem hits rock bottom, and know that it might have given you strength to get through it all. You should know that I gave it all away, that Bible, and the set of cards that you gave me, to not fold, to not give up on the game of life, all of it’s highly appreciated, and those lessons have been imbibed, but I had to throw it away, to move on, to stop myself from standing still in that moment we barely touched, but were inside each other. I still lust after you, I imagine doing it again and again, I go to bed with you, dance for you, listen to the music you love and try to hold on to the only thing I have left after investing so emotionally unto you, i.e. my dignity. It’s the only thing that keeps me from calling you, asking you if you’re in the same country as I am, if I’d ever get to meet you again, if I can ever kiss you again. I wanna be with you, D, but at the same time, I don’t want my life to be all about you. My dreams and ambitions for myself, are just heartbreakingly more important than just the fucking I could have gotten out of you. My ability to fend for myself, to not suck like a leech on another’s blood, sweat and toil, prevents me from bending over and becoming one of your lot, kissing up to your mother, and giving up my world as I know it, for you. Of course you didn’t ask me, but one need not experience something to know it, observation and knowledge can always take the place of experience, and I don’t wanna see you walk around in shorts displaying your hirsute legs, I don’t like nudity, I don’t wanna cook for you, I don’t even like cooking for myself, I don’t wanna take care of you, yet I want to do all of those things, and I might even end up doing them out of blind adoration for your potential best future self. I realize now, that I can never change you, and I don’t want to. I wish you luck, I want you to stay strong, and realize that you’re so capable of being loved, adored and just, loved.
I love you. I let you be. I set you free.
If I get to kiss you again, I’d like you to carve our initials onto a tree, I mocked at you when you said it, but wish we’d done it then, I could atleast cry out looking at it when I miss you, as I do now….Why is regret looked down upon, I wonder…regret is as important as any other human emotion..it somehow enables you to move on while strongly pulling you back to that moment because when the moment is ineffably beautiful, just the regrets remain, to be shunned, to be pushed away, to forget. It keeps you moving on. So, I’m happily, gratefully regretting all that I didn’t allow you to do, but do trust my judgement at the moment. I’ve lived to write this down thanks to my survival instincts, yeah? We’ll make it. We’ll survive, D. I love you.