Someone I'm not
We speak these words and write these sentences and play this game like we think it might turn out any differently than how we already know it will.
And here I sit
You ask me, “What’s wrong?” but how can I tell you it hurts to think you wouldn’t take me to a fancy restaurant and spend money on me just because you wanted to, even if you don’t have it, but because you think I was worth it—when I know you have done so for her, and that was when you were much more strapped for money than you are now. I’m not sure I...
A midnight maiden enraptured the north wind with her moonlit locks and darksome eyes such starlit promises smelt in her skin Sitting in her high hall face all aglow whispering secrets to the night the wind wound around this moon elf a winsome creature to hold But no fingers does the wind possess only a breath’s caress to smooth the worry from her brow.
Old habits die hard
It’s official, now. Even-steven. Except… I’ve been guarding against paranoia, against suspicion for so long—been keeping knowledge and things I shouldn’t know in my head, that I can’t shake them. I can’t just get rid of all those things so easily, like the flip of a switch. I’m trying.. but as with everything, it’s an uphill battle sometimes.
How does it feel?
To use that phrase? To use that term, that so-called formality? How sudden my surprise to hear you say you have called me your girlfriend. Or the times in recent days when I’ve had to correct you when you’ve called yourself my boyfriend. Perhaps, if you’ve become so comfortable in using those terms, that it might be time to reconsider the definitions of them. Committing to...
When you're asleep and I'm drinking
I will slowly wake you, inch by inch, with my hands and lips on your skin, spreading fire over the monoliths your shoulder-blades make on your back. I will coax murmurs and sighs from your lips through heated and blood-stirring spirals, traced along invisible lines and shadows that dance over your muscles. With vodka tingling my veins, I will fill yours with smoke with whispered phrases and...
Look. I know you’ve just come from situations that were underhanded, deceptive, one-sided, selfish in all sorts of ways, and full of holding things over your head, and unwanted obligations and limitations, and a whole hell of a lot of craziness all around. I know you’re trying to avoid allowing anything like that happen to you again, and I know that’s why you refuse to commit to...
Last night I dreamt you told me you loved me
Nothing more than that, not, “I love you, will you be mine forever,” not, “I love you, I want to live with you,” but just simple, “I love you.” In such a nonchalant manner, I almost missed hearing it in the dream. I remember asking you to repeat it, and you did, in a quiet, almost sheepish sort of manner. Neither of us made a big deal about it, though I think I...
If I could summarise the past half a year into a...
I want so much to build a life with you. I want to live together, to combine out plates and silverware and decorations. I want to have the second bedroom be a workout room for us to use together and separately. I want my own studio, finally, to spread out all my art and craft supplies—I want an old armoire with shelves to keep all my yarn in. I want a yard of some sort to grow herbs and...
First to the Block
When will you start putting your neck out first? When will you start tossing everything aside for me? When will you finally relent from being ground down under someone else’s emotional heel, say enough is fucking enough, and realise you deserve better treatment than that—the kind of treatment I give you all the time? When will you stop looking somewhere else? When will you see...
Don’t tell me you want me to have my freedom. This isn’t about that. You still want your freedom, and you just want it to be equal. I knew that going into and staying with this, and I understand and accept it. Just don’t pretend like it’s not the reason. You don’t have to pretend, anymore.
It will no longer be
A relationship based on things not said. Because now I’m saying them. I’m going to prove him, and her, all wrong. They don’t know a thing.
The most beautiful thing.
Two, actually. I told you I loved you the other day, and you’re still here, and everything’s still the same. You comforted me quite far beyond what you might have intended when you told me that sometimes you just don’t know what to say when I tell you personal, emotional things, and that maybe I should think that you feel the same as I do, but just don’t want a...
It’s so hard to tell whether I’ve fucked up by telling you the things that I do, if I’m just slowly ruining any chances I may have of “officially” being with you, or if it’s ending up bringing us closer together. Do I reveal too much of myself to you? Do you merely show friendly sympathy and caring, but don’t say much because it doesn’t go anywhere...
Riddle me this.
What I really want to know is when you’re going to stop being afraid and finally willing to incorporate me more into your life. By that, I mean the life with your friends. They’ve met me, they like me, I like them. They and I both want to get to know each other more, and you’re the connecting point, except you’re avoiding doing the connecting. I want to know when...
You know how I know?
How I know this is the real deal, sir? Because I know you were with her. I know you cared deeply for her—perhaps even more than you cared for me then, or even care for me now—and it still raises my hackles to hear you describe what she did to you and your emotions (even though you speak in generalities—which I also don’t doubt), not only because it was right after what...
I think both you and I take more abuse than we really should from people we care a lot about. Oddly funny, considering how the majority of people seem to think we’re cold, aloof, bad, dumb, angry, and/or violent all the time.
I wonder if you’ll decide to hang around this weekend, with my mother and her boyfriend and his daughter. And I really wonder if it truly would be because “you have nothing better to do” or “nowhere really else to go”… or if at least some part of you wants to be a part of my family (such as it is) and me.
Last Will and Testament
If you are wrapped in a shroud and buried beneath a tree, I want to be the ash sprinkled on top and around the base and roots. via max702.deviantart.com
Don't ever change.
You are a wonderful, ridiculous, infuriating duality of a man.
Don't tell me I'm absurd.
Is it silly of me to pretend, just a little bit, that it’s some years from now and you’re not staying in my apartment, but we’re living together, and you’re not worried about imposing on me, but we’re contemplating the future we’re building, and we’re not worried that I might be pregnant, but we’re excited and slightly afraid of the life we ...
I’ve been waiting my whole life for the right guy to come along and then you...– 27 Dresses (via kari-shma)
People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants....– Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia) (via kari-shma)
This is my wish.
1) To have a better camera to take actual nice pictures with. 2) To have Anubis in the photo next time. 3) To keep nights and days like this with you forever in my life.
You can use my address however long you want.
Up until the point where you can call it yours, anyway. via Poseidonadventurer.deviantart.com
This is fact.
I never sleep right when you’re not next to me. But I do enjoy seeing your machete on my nightstand.
My new place seems far too small for just myself. The last place seemed crowded with two people in it, plus my two cats. But this place feels cozy with another person. I need you to be here to fill the emptiness in my home. You’d even fit right in with the decor. Especially after I get a couch—I’m much looking forward to using you as a pillow/blanket. via somewhere I...
Certainly not a certainty.
There was a brief time, perhaps more than an hour, but definitely less than a day, where I considered and actually went partially through with privatising some of these posts. This occurred not long after I created the second blog about minimal and subtle things, and I realised that I could make that entire second blog private if I wanted to do so. At first, I debated switching things around,...
At least, I like to think I do
I understand. I understand where you’re coming from, at least conceptually. I can’t put myself into your head and feelings and heart and soul entirely, so I can’t really completely utterly know for absolute certain. But I’m fairly sure I understand. I don’t know all the reasons. I don’t even know some of the reasons, but I’m okay with them. I have to...
Not enough of a good thing.
I think you’re beginning to slip. via papillonelfique.deviantart.com Spending too much time with me. Calling and talking to me too much. Words and phrases slipping out that might construe that you feel more for me than you’re willing to tell me right now. That you might be thinking of us as a singular, as a unit, as a partnership, a couple. Whatever am I to do? lie back and take...
via m0thyyku.deviantart.com Why do I feel like living with you would be like having a soundtrack to life?
I felt you speak to my soul with yours the other night when you were in me. Also, you called me “babe” for no reason the other night as we watched Tombstone and it made my heart skip a beat. It did it again when you kissed me for no reason. It’s really the little things that make me happy. The unnoticeable, little details. It really is. via liek.deviantart.com
Being an independent woman doesn’t make me free. via scrame.deviantart.com I am free when I let myself completely sink into you.
Why is it
that I can’t say “no” to you?
via xdreamxweaverx.deviantart.com Can we go find or build a place like this? Can you come home to me here every night?
I want to make love to you in the morning every morning we can. I want to make you change your mind about morning sex. I want the time to come again when there is only flesh and fluids between us, and we don’t have to worry or be careful. I want to make love to you under the stars again, watching Orion slowly rise over the crest of your shoulders. I want to make your skin tingle with...
I ache to coil my legs around your shoulders like roots ache to wrap around the edges of a river bank.
But I'm knitting you a sweater anyway.
via papertissue.tumblr.com cursed.
A work in progress.
I love/accept you without question, without qualm, without reservation. The freckles burned into your shoulders. The deviation in your septum. The one rib (or so) that juts out a little too far on your left side. The endearingly small toes on your feet. The monoliths your shoulder-blades create on the expanse of your back when you move in the right directions. The solid arc your trapezious...
It’s knowing you can face the other direction and it’ll still feel just as good. via Anaris.deviantart.com
I don’t care if you can hurt me. The more you can hurt me, the happier you make me, the closer I feel to you. I wish you felt as I do, or that you at least find it one day… but it won’t change my mind or my heart in either case. I don’t care that you can’t take me to fancy restaurants, of buy me expensive things—the things you do buy for me mean all the...
We’re not like two puzzle pieces that fit into each other. We’re like the end pieces on opposite corners with the whole picture between us.
I don't love you for what you can give me, but for...
via m0thyyku.deviantart.com It starts out as a single hairline fracture, spiderwebbing its way up and out, down and in. Change, nor any sort of noticing it, is ever immediate. But pressures always build inside, trying to be uniform with those without, eager to burst free. Perhaps without ever knowing it, or why. The crack widens; water starts trickling out, slow at first, then more insistent....