…last night was so lovely, so spontaneous, so casually ecstatic and completely unique. It was fun I could only have with you.
I can’t believe it’s already six a.m., where has the night gone? I didn’t expect an answer, but it was a question I wanted to ask. Aphex Twin continued to massage our shoulders with ambient fingers.
I read to you and you to me. I dropped the needle and you dropped the needle and the stack of records grew until it towered above us, eager to protect our vulnerable bodies. I thanked our tilting guardian and felt safe, reborn.
Neither of us wanted it to end, to raise the white flag knowing we had milked all we could. And that’s how it goes, how it always will. Perfection does not linger, which is why it fascinates us all.
We sat cross-legged on the bed and played go fish as the party unfolded behind the bedroom door. I wanted to be nowhere else and your smile confirmed my desire. Mutual love is stronger than any fucking word or poem or painting or song or vintage bottle of wine aged so well you clench your toes and ass cheeks after one short whiff. I want to dip my nose into a nice wine glass and sip the one bottle I have dreamed of since day one, but I want that day to take me by surprise, and I want to work hard for that moment.
I told you about the crush, how it’s harmless because you are the girl I want and you are the girl who likes me for me like no one else. And I like you for you… isn’t it a beautiful thing? It’s something we work on, something that will never be easy and will constantly challenge our current moral values. I confront you and you return my serves with admirable force. It will always be a tennis match and one of us will always have momentum. But last night… last night we threw momentum out the bedroom window and gave a bloated middle finger to an audience expecting a formulaic outcome. You continue to surprise me and that is what I need. It paints a smile on my face before I drift off each night and that alone is enough to be thankful for.
I live a plush life, even when my face is slammed into the mud. I worry because it is in my blood, and if I constantly compare my worries to those suffering the most I will never feel truly happy. I must learn to ration my sympathy, for it can crush a man as easily as it can save one. You must live your life knowing you are given only one chance, one chance to do the right thing in every situation that presents itself. No one is capable of walking down the right path every time, we are human, and unfortunately many of us have trouble with the concept of love. Love, as well as respect, is not something you must earn, it is something you must prove unworthy of receiving. Why should anyone have to earn my respect? That insinuates that initially I respect no one… what an awful way to approach life.
Have fun, consider those around you, accept who you are and never believe those who say you aren’t good enough. You are god dammit, you can accomplish more than you know with a heart made of refusal and patience. And when the end creeps up behind you, with that heart, who gives a shit. Only you can judge yourself in front of the reaper, and with good intentions, you’ll dissipate relieved. Scared as hell, but relieved. The journey certainly isn’t for the weak hearted. I pity the ones who are afraid to fail.
I love you. Goodnight.