Even if it was for a short while, what an incredible, beautiful privilege to matter to you.
I just wished it turned out differently, you know?
I think, no, know, that if we met at a different time, maybe when we were both older or met somewhere else, things could have worked out the way we wanted them to.
Maybe then I wouldn’t be here trying to tell myself to not miss your darling laugh and your gorgeous smile, or your hair and how fucking amazing it was to run my hands through it. I don’t think you ever had to try to look absolutely elegant.
I heard it said once that love is a privilege, not a pastime.
I never really knew what that meant until I met you.
I cannot ever be interested light little flings, or long loveless marriages, or skin-deep attractions. When I saw you, I knew I wanted only raw, full-blooded connection, to share a bond full of breathtaking adventure and passion.
I don’t know how, but you always brought out the best in me.
I don’t mean a sense of maturity or better manners, or whatever else this tired world demands of me.
I mean you make me want to climb roofs, run recklessly and wildly, take fantastic risks and chase my silly dreams with integrity and passion.
Around you, I start living.
I missed you for too long, in so many ways, that it became another part of me;
with each passing day engraving itself deeper into my heart.
I would wake up, breathe, stretch, and miss you.
I cannot tell you how many people told me to let it all go, to let you go.
I would always say “You cannot just will your heart to stop beating,
that no matter how long you hold your breath for, you cannot hold it forever,
and were I to stop missing you, I’d stop being myself entirely.”
this is me,
saying that I cannot unlove you.
I cannot forget the way your voice sounded at 2 am.
I cannot forget the way your lips would press against mine.
I cannot forget the way we fit, like the pieces of a puzzle, whenever we hugged.
I cannot forget the way you made everything in my life okay.
It may be killing me, but I cannot unlove you.
This is me, here and now, with arms open, heart out.
I want all of you and then some.
I want your 3 am brokenness.
I want to know what terrifies you the most so I can tear it to insignificant pieces.
I want to spend the rest of my life exploring your blazing hot, cosmos of a heart.
I want to show you that all of the flaws and beautiful imperfections that separate you from the gods are the very things I will always fall for the hardest.
I’ll choose you.
In a hundred worlds,
in a hundred lifetimes,
in any version of reality,
I’d find you and I’d choose you.
It’s like a disease, this love.
Coursing through my weary veins.
It’s going to destroy me in the end, I know it will.
But I hope,
oh God, do I pray,
that it could save me, too.