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.


6 thoughts on “Fusillade

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Website Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: