"I’m just a sad song."
I want to believe I can get as close to a friend as I can to a lover. As though I can trust easily in that way, without having to tell myself to. I want to believe I will not indeed be left alone again, once that trust has finally been given. But we are guaranteed nothing in this life. The ones we have loved the most deeply are brief glimpses. I tell myself it is meant to be this way, that we must have something more stable to sustain. But I don’t believe. I don’t believe myself anymore.
Some moments, I feel
Alright. Borderline nice, even
With the thought of things
My love for you
Is stronger than
My logic. Stronger
Than my rational thoughts.
Maybe we want to love someone so much
and be loved so in return
that we trip and fall into black
oil slicks of someone else—
that we abandon the patterns of
our own breathing to fall
into sync with someone else.
“When that mailbox lights up, love. It means someone has forgotten how to forget me. It means someone has remembered even. Thought of me. In some small crevice of their mind. They took the time to compose a carefully constructed message, and even took the effort to hit “Send.” I am so addicted to being remembered. As though my ego is something fragile. Starved, even. Whether good or bad, or normal, someone has thought of me. I am someone. I exist as an icon or a contact on someone’s phone. I am more than simply floating about in the universe. So much more than simply some drifter. I am remembered. Time stamped. Coded. Someone has thought of me.”
— “On Instant Gratification” by Radha Kistler
I have been such a steady “On the way”
place for so many of the most wonderful
and disappointing men. My slogan for so long
was, “What do you need? I will be that
for you. Tell me.”
I don’t bend the same way now. Do not
shadow myself in the same awful
I don’t want to be an “On the Way”
destination for you.
So easily bent,
so easily changeable.
Let this continue. Let it
always live on, within us.
Don’t let it go.
“Belonging to someone is a very specific type of gorgeous madness. At times, I am still the crazed woman I was once. I still crave. I have to fight the desire to want to be everything to you. All I want is for lovely parts of you to blossom in the palm of my hand.”
— “Blossom” by Radha Kistler
I bite my tongue before I tell you that I wish you were more emotion and less intellect. Before I ask you, if your work is so important, why does it not move you? Why does it not fulfill you? I bite my tongue before I make your life harder. Before I ask you if I am still the last thought on your mind before you go to sleep at night. If you still long for me when you wonder what is missing in your life. If I am that for you. When you have almost nothing to say about my words. I do not want you to be someone you are not, but I wonder where that playfulness went. I wonder if things are disappearing within you. When you ask me if I love you, I wonder where you have put me in your mind. Or if I have reached the inner layers of your heart. You tell me that you replaced passion with work, but I do not want to be some afterthought. When your work consumes your every thought and I become a distraction to be quelled I want to ask you, do you want to be married to your work? I wonder if there is room for me.
“More days I have questioned myself than I haven’t. More days I have wondered about the worth of what existed within this little frame. Too many days have I laid in bed staring through the windows wishing there was more substance within me, more capability. I have had too many days where small tasks have seemed nearly insurmountable. Today is not one of those days. I rose with determination. I moved with a confidence I had conjured merely out of necessity, and it continued. I talked with people I never would have been able to before with such grace, such ease. Such necessity of being. This rarely happens so easily, so when it does I catch onto it. I ride the wave of this seemingly endless ocean. Today, I recognize what I am capable of. I encounter the person I want to be.”
— “Potential” by Radha Kistler
With eyelids still heavy from an afternoon nap, I stared at my phone as it kept ringing. I thought I was still dreaming. I was half-awake after all. So I must be dreaming. He’s fast asleep already.
But then it kept ringing in my hands and I realized I wasn’t dreaming. It really was him calling, so I immediately answered. He still sounded so sleepy which made his voice more intoxicating.
"I miss you baby."
Damn. What time is it there? Almost 2 am. He wakes up and call just to say he misses me? Do you have any idea how seriously sweet that is?! I can’t stop smiling that my cheeks started hurting.
The freaky thing though is that before I took a nap, I was just thinking about a scenario just like that. Like how sweet it is when a guy wakes up to text/call his girl because he suddenly misses her in the middle of the night. I thought about how special and loved any girl would feel if their special someone actually does that.
So I told Leo about that thought and we were both ultimately convinced that we sure have this freaky (almost creepy) connection since this isn’t actually the first time it happened. Happened so many times that we’re starting to get creeped out. It’s like he can read my mind or sense my thoughts. Like he has this girlfriend senses and all, haha. Sometimes he would talk about stuff I was just thinking about or he would do things I wished he’d do. Cool or creepy? Both? I dunno.
Anyway, I really still can’t get over that I-woke-up-cause-I-miss-you call I got from him haha. I’ll totally be in a giddy good mood all evening. It just makes me feel so important.
You don’t need grand gestures to make someone feel important. Sometimes the simple little things is enough. Especially the unexpected ones ❤️
Of all the lies we are told about love and loss—of joy and suffering; the greatest untruth is how any of it, is ever at all, within your control.