I look at you as if you’re already gone. A distant memory that still manages to hurt even though it’s over. I stood in the doorway and watched you sleep, it felt like a goodbye, although it’s just beginning. Loving like you’ve never been hurt seems so romantic, in theory. Truth is my heart is nothing but scar tissue, yet somehow it manages to pump blood throughout my body, but nothing else.
I could see myself loving you. I could see myself wanting you forever. I could see many tomorrows. Yet I stand at the door watching you sleep, whispering a tender goodbye.
My mind, the cinema. I put in a movie titled “you”. Press play. I rewind all the good parts, smile. I fast forward and I feel excitement, fear. The unknown. Overwhelming. So I hit pause. I hope I never want to press stop.
I’m here again. Walking in my own footsteps. At a crossroads.
Disappointment seems to win each time. A feeling of defeat, I surrender. This time.
It’s so difficult to stay still, so easy to move fast. While moving fast I miss things, will I ever get what I want?
A tangible love so thick it fills my soul? I’d spend every minute of the day with you and not get sick of you. Not of the conversation, or the way your upper lip on the left moves a little higher when you speak. The way your white, beautiful teeth look when you smile. Or the way your blue eyes bare into my soul each time you look at me. You let me speak. You listen. You hear.
Hear me. Now. Please don’t be my next disappointment.
The first kiss. The one I waited so long for. Long moments of gazing at your lips hoping they’d have the courage to touch against mine, soon. The thought of your beautiful eyes closing as you finally lean in to make my knees weak from a long awaited sign of affection.
Is it possible to feel this again? The butterflies? The longing?
I hope. And this time I’d like to do this right.
Men write songs about beautiful women. Poems and letters too. Many books and stories are written about strong men, handsome men, tough men. But I’d like to write something about beautiful men. The men who possess a confidence that can only be achieved through a life of motivation and struggle. The beautiful men who have rough hands but a soft touch. Women are known for their soft smooth skin, but if you’ve ever felt the skin leading from a mans rib to his hip, you know it can be just as soft as any woman’s. A beautiful man knows how to love, and do so fiercely. And although his jaw may be sharp and his eyes filled with the unknown, he can speak the sweetest words. His strong back can instill a sense of safety in a woman, or another man. A beautiful man knows of his beauty, but also appreciates that of the beautiful person that chooses to stand next to him.
I’ve been waiting for you. For almost my entire life, I’ve waited. Patience truly is a virtue. One I’ve learned to perfect along the path of my amazing, difficult life. I thought I found you a few times. In a man with perfect teeth and a strong back. Once I thought I found you in a man with a smile that lit up my world…but it turned out he didn’t know how to love, and I knew he couldn’t be you.
So I’ve waiting…and I hope to find you soon. I hope you’re handsome and kind. I hope you’re happy and that you love yourself. Most of all, I hope you’re waiting for me too. I hope your life hasn’t been too difficult, and if it has I promise to try to make it easier.
I smiled at the sun today. I couldn’t look directly at it because I’d have gone blind and there’s far too much of the world I need to see. But I smiled, and the sun felt good for the first time in a very long time.
Darkness can become a friend so easily. But today I smiled at the sun and I think tomorrow I’ll say hello.
I always thought I could navigate this world alone. The lone ranger. Independent, with a wall surrounding me like the great one. Life is extremely taxing when you fight against yourself. I am a certain way, so are you. I have decided I am going to try to embrace it. I cry, I am emotional. I feel, I am empathetic. I need, I am needy. I control, I am a control freak. And I cannot navigate this world alone, nor do I want to.
Perhaps I’ve finally found my key to happiness.
I feel…very down lately. Mentally I’m just not where I want to be. I can’t explain why. I lost 20 pounds and I still feel like a fat fuck. For the first 2 months I felt like I kicked my food addiction and that it was smooth sailing from here. It’s a constant battle. And now that I am not feeling great mentally, it’s a mental battle with myself to not eat something I know I shouldn’t. I went on a date the other night. It was terrible. The guy had nasty ass breath and looked nothing like his pictures. I don’t get looked at. There’s tons of guys in the gym and I feel like a little mouse, unimpressive and uninteresting to look at.
I could have settled a long time ago. I could have decided that being with someone that was toxic for me, or wasn’t right for me, was better than being alone. Being alone is great, for a while. But I miss human interaction. The kind that makes me feel warm inside. I miss looking at a man and admiring his beauty. I miss the smell of pheromones and the little stubble that’s always growing on a handsome face. I miss making a man laugh and appreciating his white teeth and happiness. I miss many things but most of all I miss that little part of me I haven’t seen in a very long time. The enthusiastic part. The glass half full part. The happy part.
I dream of a carved jaw line and a similar chin. Of a strong back and thick legs. Of arms that could carry me to safety, or to bed. Of lips that feel a little bit like home whenever they’re pressed against mine. Of trust, and laughter. Of skin upon skin. Mine on his. I dream.