butterflies.
hello, strangers.

my mind is full and spilling over the edges.
there's a feeling i can't shake,
and i don't know what it is or why it's there.
it just is. there.
crawling over my skin,
tickling me with uneasiness.
" unpack that thought ", my love would say.
and i'm trying.
but i don't know where to start.
i can't pin point where this feeling is coming from,
from what, where, or most likely, who.

the list.

the ideal...

• book worm
• finds pleasure/solace/comfort in the ocean or being at the beach
• adventuring soul... likes to be outside, in the forest, exploring and investigating new sights. 
• likes what most people would call crappy weather - fog, mist, and torrential down pours. 
• won't mind when there's a storm and i grab them by the wrist to run with me outside
• is accepting of my quietness and is content in either being comfortably silent with me, or has a way of talking that engages me and gets me talking. 
• large and diverse selection of {good} music and is happy to exchange new finds, and old favorites. 
• dog person
• a sense of curiosity; to the people in his life and the world surrounding him
• is slow to anger and is careful in his jealousy 
• ease of smile 
• does not hesitate when a question or conflict arises; does not avoid or quit contact but is honest and straightforward with thoughts and feelings {not defensive and derisive}
• understands relationships are a bond between two people who are best friends, partners in crime, a duo, but also that each party needs some space to spend individually 
• is an artist in some way... a painter, a musician, a writer, a photographer, anything. 
• no ego, is careful not to be selfish when avoidable. 
• sex is fun; a chance to explore the other person with tenderness, and affection and mistakes can be made that are laughed off and tried again. things are talked about and questioned without judgement; a learning and exploratory experience. 
• eyes i can swim in
• feelings and thoughts can be exchanged sometimes just through body language and shared glances
• likes to cook together, or take turns cooking for one another
• enjoys well written, or well spoken, words. beautiful words. poetry, quotes, especially moving excerpts from novels.
• goofy and silly but also genuine and sincere
• physical displays of affection are tender, but not smothering. understands that i feel most connected when i can feel the presence of the other; any small form of touch. accepts it, revels and indulges in it. but never smothering. 
• observant of their own needs and moods, and also of others. 
• contagious laughter
• comfortable in his being and his skin
• brown eyes
• family is important and fundamental part of their life
• netflix, beer, pizza and sex are a good date night. 

the negotiable...

• well dressed 
• good grammar on social media platforms, as well as through phone and email contact, well versed well written..

you're a risk i'm willing to fuck. 

there's something about this city.
i feel connected to it,
to each blade of grass,
to every separate stone inlaying the streets,
to the trees that whisper hellos as i pass beneath their leaves.
i sense its moods and i revel in their differences.
i revel in the sun when it reflects off the windows of buildings,
when its rays bounce playfully on the crashing ocean waves.
the best relationship i've had -
{aside from my eternal love affair with the sea}
is the one with this collection of streets and dwellings.
sometimes,
i even feel that it senses my moods.
it always knowns when it needs to rain.
always.
although, it could rain more,
it always rains when i need it too.
and when it does, i lace my boots with haste,
and i run, laughing, outside to greet my love with an open soul.
i walk under her trees, her street lamps,
and the rain that playfully plops on my cheeks.
it lifts my spirits and gives me strength,
and i know with all my heart,
that no matter how far i travel,
no matter how far i roam,
i will always find myself back here,
with my toes in the sand; the ocean kissing my feet,
with my head tilted to the sky; the rain kissing my face.

i'm trying to be analytical.
to be unfeeling and full of ice,
logic, reason,
of distance.
i keep exploring the hole you left,
and i keep finding more space to it,
more depth, more openness.
it surprises me, the volume of it.
nothing i shovel in will close it,
nothing even comes close.
i stand in it, hoping that i myself can breach it,
to bring the edges together.
but i can't even see the edges, they keep escaping me.
and bringing other people into the hole just causes the edges to extend further.
no matter how logical i try to be -
am being -
at the end of the day i'm still crushed by the weight of your absence.
i can try to fight it, and pretend it's not there,
to distract myself with the company of others,
but i know, through logical analyzation,
that the only thing that will fill this hole,
is time.
or you.
but only one of those options is viable.

a heart is such a fickle thing.
just when you think you have your own dissected,
explored and analyzed,
it evolves and surprises you.
the heart of another,
well, that's another matter.
just like fingerprints,
no heart is the same.
and even when you think your heart;
even when you thought you knew that your heart
was immune to theirs,
you find a fingerprint, left indented.
but their heart is out of the gamble now,
so the two bodies may leave indentations,
on one another,
yet not the hearts.
but i wonder,
will this fingerprint you left ever wash away,
when your fingerprints still crawl over my skin?

i have a heart of ice.

or at least,

i had.

i guess i left it sitting in the warmth too long,

and not in the darkness, where it belongs.

back to the cold and the damp, 

we go.

i pray it doesn't take too long to refreeze. 

there's a comfort, i feel, that is only obtained through cold.

wrap me, shroud me, in cold and in ice.

let me bask in comfort and peace, 

in the cold.

hide myself in ice, once more.

a crystalline heart.

and this time,

i promise,

i won't let you sit in the warmth too long.

sometimes it's impossible to hide myself from you,
other times,
i wonder if you really see me at all.
sometimes you can read me like a book,
and there's no hiding my discomfort from your searching eyes.
see also: doubt, longing, wonder, confusion.
i swing between proud of how i've managed to hide the real disaster you've made inside me,
and ashamed at how i've been lying to not only you, but myself too.
i swing between internal conflicts,
while you swing between hearts.
i hate the feeling i'm left with when the dial tone takes over,
taken for granted isn't the correct term,
but it's the first thing that comes to mind.
*
i love the color gray.
i love the fog and the mist when the world is shrouded in nothing but silver.
i wear gray more than mice,
more than the ashes left when the cinders have burnt themselves out.
why wouldn't i be comfortable in a gray area,
even if it comes to love?
but if there's something new i've learnt about myself...
it's that my love for gray only goes so far.
i don't want to be someones gray area;
see also: a phantom, a fog, a second choice.
burden isn't the correct term,
but it's the first thing that comes to mind.
*
"whatever you're feeling, remember it's mutual."
i think i believed that when you told me,
or maybe that was another lie to myself as well.
if i believed it then, i don't believe it now.
or maybe i do,
but i'm waiting for the truth of it to expire.
see also: forget, move on, lose interest.
i'm waiting for the day to come when my feelings exceed yours,
and yours recede into memories, into phantoms.
everyday i tell myself to fold, to pull my heart out of the gamble,
to recede into nothingness first.
pride isn't the correct term,
but it's the first thing that comes to mind.
*
if i were to throw all pretence of good writing habits out the window,
this message would boil down to thus:
i love you, with every part of me.
you've gotten deep into the heart of me,
and i carry thoughts of you with me, always.
but i hate it.
it fucking hurts, and it claws at me, the not knowingness of this.
the question marks, the gray, the ricocheting time lines of us.
it all sucks, and i try to bear it the best i can,
because love isn't all good shit,
it's a lot of bad shit,
and you take the bad with the good and that's life.
but this, this hurts more than anything before, truly.
and there's a constant hope inside of me that i can't help,
that i wish i could just turn off,
because hope is a sad word.
it indicates that all other possibilites have been exhausted.
and i don't want to wait or hope for someone, something else.
and i know you don't either.
but when something like this comes along,
it's hard not to want to do the things you never thought you would want to do;
like make hypothetical and stupid, annoying, heart breaking plans inside my mind.
it's hard to admit, but you have such a hold on me,
and that, for me, is painful in itself.
i told you once that you're an exception, that i don't like falling in love and it terrifies me.
and it really fucking does.
you're an exception in many ways, and you're incredibly special to me,
and that terrifies me, because i never allow myself to believe i'm special to anyone.
but here i am, and i know the smart thing to do would be to break bonds and burn bridges,
but i love you and i can't.
playing with fire isn't the correct term,
but it's the first thing that comes to mind.

my soul longs for you,
i miss you with every part of my being.
i love you, i ache for you.

it's fitting in an uncontrollably sad way,

that you should leave to plant saplings in the ground,

after you've planted your love in my heart.

i'm trying to be content with the time we spent together, 

and not lust for more.

i want you to forget me, so that i can forget you.

my love feeds on your love, 

and your love for me still holds. 

i'm trying to be content with what we had,

and to let what will be, be.

to accept that you have taught me all you could teach me,

and that our love was meant to end,

was meant to end in an uncontrollably sad way.

but i know i could learn so much more from you,

about love, life, and myself.

i miss you uncontrollably. 

i love you uncontrollably.

our love was an explosion,

and the rubble is still settling down around me.

i love you in an uncontrollably sad way,

uncontrollably sad,

because this love was always bound to hurt. 

if you play with fire, you're going to get burnt. 
you are fire. you really are.
you're bright, and magical and warm and inviting.
you're everything that the brightest flame is.
and i'm the thick dumb hand that reaches in to stroke your beauty.
i'm the stupid fingers that want to be wrapped in your warmth.
i am the stupid arm that is getting singed.
yet for some reason i've left a trace of myself in you still,
i've left the tips of my fingers on the idea of your flame,
and it's getting hotter and the burn is getting worse.
i've been staring into your fire for too long,
and now when i look away all my eyes see are grey.
the grey area, you called it.
and i hate it and it makes me terrified, because i prefer things black and white.
i need an answer, and i don't care what it is.
the longer i keep my fingers in your fire the worse your damage will be.
i need to make my own decision,
to pull myself from you and run.
fucking run,
like i do so well.
if i don't, i'm going to get burnt.
burnt to a crisp,
i know it.

this time yesterday you were beside me,
around me.
now you're gone, as i always knew you would be.
the worst part is not knowing if this will pay off.
i'm not scared of waiting,
my patience for love is endless,
it's been proven.
i'm scared of not knowing if you'll come back.
if you'll decide to take your life's path in another direction,
which i wouldn't hold against you.
i could never hold anything against you...
but it would be easier if i could.
most of me believes you'll come back,
but i won't let myself feel that hope entirely.
i won't let hope shine into every dark corner.
i won't.
i fight it, and i remind myself of your transience...
my transient lover.
it'll get easier to get lost in myself as time passes,
but for now my mind is too wrapped up in you.
too stuck on the image of your eyes freshly burnt into my memory.
the cool blue seas that refreshed me when i got caught in them.
the blue pools that engulfed me and taught me love,
irrational and irreplaceable love.
the feel of your love is too fresh,
it stings every time i reach to touch it,
as the fingers of my memory brush over it.
the memory of you pulling on your green chords,
and me uncontrollably blurting my love for boys in chords...
"they're my favorite pants," you said,
"i can work with that." i responded.
another reminder of our compatibility.
i want to write down everything i can remember while it's still fresh...
every small and unimportant thing,
and every big earth changing thing.
you grabbing me and singing "i walked with you once upon a dream,"
"our life story" you called it.
or the moment you took my breath away with your nonchalant comment on how we would do well living together,
and we would do magnificent living together.
holding each other in my bedroom doorway and sobbing,
you whispering i love you and me not knowing how to respond.
showing you my writing, and showing you i felt the same.
because i can only articulate my feelings through words written, not spoken.
talks spent on a swing under the stars,
you laughing at the stories one of my oldest friends had told you,
you telling me how to live my life, jokingly.
download this, read this.
and i love it,
because i love when people give me suggestions,
because i hate asking for them but i'm always, always seeking them.
i want these three months to pass by swiftly,
but i also don't.
i fear what the end brings,
the changes that will occur inside of us separately.
will your love for me grow or will it leave you?
will it leave your heart as you left me?
if you forget me i might break,
or maybe i'll forget you.
time is such a fickle, mysterious partner in this dance of love and waiting.
my head is full with memories,
my heart with longing.
my soul with sadness,
and my hands empty of yours.
come back to me.

“it’s a shitty situation to be in,”

you said.

maybe i’ve been closing my eyes to the real of it,

to the heart of the matter,

but my eyes are open, and i realize how right you were.

maybe i was too scared to analyze the different layers of my emotions,

to objectively contemplate the reality behind our words, and thoughts.

i kick myself for not running when i had the chance,

for not cutting my losses and turning a blind eye.

but you drew me in so fast and, like my breath, i was caught.

caught in the web of your openness and unyielding honesty.

i guess you could say i hold a resentment to the universe for this one.

because when i met you i was running, as i do,

and i stumbled unwantingly into this trap the world had set for me.

unwillingly falling faster and harder than i would like to admit,

even to myself.

sense and reality went out the window,

but now it’s coming back to me and i’m trembling at the weight.

the weight of fear, of separation, of the million questions swimming in my mind.

most of all i tremble at the weight of one thing,

of one word,

one emotion,

that i feel so fervently,

so passionately.

that i can’t admit out loud because it’s simply not rational.

but the word screams itself in my mind when our eyes lock,

and i can’t escape it.

and it plays in my mind on repeat,

and i want to repeat it to you,

to share the weight, even just to the air surrounding the word when i release it.

i don’t expect you to take it, to feel it,

i won’t expect anything from you,

because it’s not fair to you,

but mostly not fair to me.

i love you.

there, weight released.

" your signal fades away, and all i'm left with is noise. "

you're gone, now.
the time that has created a barrier between us has finally passed.
seems funny, really,
that on this day, and late last night, we were finally able to connect past that barrier.
it was that word on both our lips that finally bridged that gap.
love.
the word that seems so big, so daunting, so haunting...
but is a perfect, if not underwhelming, explanation of our feelings.
i was expecting to get uncontrollably emotional,
to break in front of you.
but it never happened.
instead my insides swarmed with a disgusting coldness,
a numbness.
it broke when you left,
when you waved so slightly out the window as the bus drove you away.
the sadness and reality crashed down around me,
and i almost fell to the ground at its impact.
now it's back,
so numb and empty,
and all i want to do is sleep the next three months away.
but i know i can't,
i know i have to pull my head back into the reality of life.
and i know that i can't even focus on the idea of you coming back,
because you might not even come back to me.
so for the next three months i will grow.
i will grow and stretch my soul,
i will explore myself and not others.
i will love myself, and love my friends, and love the world i am surrounded by.
i will breath the air, and listen to too much music,
attend so many shows that my bank account cries out in protest.
i will try to laugh and fill the hole in my heart with my own laughter.
and the laughter of those i already love.
but i won't look for new love.
i won't look for new experiences from others like you.
this is the opportunity i've been waiting for;
to swim and explore through my own heart,
to grow myself and seek personal development.
you finally gave me the strength and the initial push to do so,
and i'll finish the job you unknowingly started;
it's time to love me.