For now

I think I'm going to do what she suggested.

I better back up.

I want to have more time with you.

I know I don't know you that well yet.

I'd like to.

I think maybe I'd like to know you that well.

Maybe it's better for it to be this way.

Maybe I just need to learn the way that things should be, so that when I finally find it, I recognize it.

Maybe that's what you're here for.

It scares me, knowing that I might let myself want something that I'll have to give up.

I'll take my time.

I'll make it about myself, this time.

Not just about somebody else.

I like holding your hand.

I'd like to keep doing it, at least for a little while.

Being with you feels good, and it feels easy, and it feels comfortable.

It makes me feel happy.

So I'll do that until I can't do it anymore.

Thanks.

Not going anywhere

I feel really weird.

I've been so excited about meeting this new guy, and thinking about him all the time and feeling really happy and stuff. And this just hit me really hard.

I just don't really think about it. I mean, all along when you give me a hug it just feels like I'm where I'm supposed to be. Maybe it sounds weird but when I smell the way that you smell it just all seems right. I'm supposed to have you around, and vice versa.

I didn't mean anything weird by inviting you to meet my family. I just thought they've met all my best friends but you and it'd be fun. But seeing you and my dad off in a corner having your own conversation, and the way my dad kept shooting me these curious looks, and the way my brother sat right next to you on the couch and sang along when you were playing Hallelujah even though he normally wouldn't do that when he just met someone, and you hitting it off with Miranda, I don't know. You really just clicked with them. And it, I don't know. It kind of felt like I was bringing a boyfriend to meet them. But not just a boyfriend. Fuck, I don't know.

I think if you and I ever get together we won't ever split up. If we get together I think we'd end up getting married. And we're both young, and you're not going anywhere, and I'm not going anywhere, and maybe someday. But it's just weird to be aware of it all of a sudden. It was easy before when we were pretending we didn't think about us being together anymore. I thought you didn't think about it anymore, I really did. I thought you were over it. We had the whole talk about being friends and calling it at that and you seemed really sure of it last fall. You're not. You still. And so do I.

I feel this sinking feeling. I wish I were with you now. I know there's no hurry and we've got plenty of time and we should just keep being friends and maybe someday when the time is right, who knows. But fuck me if it wasn't a lot easier during this past year when I could just pretend that we both weren't thinking about it anymore. You had a crack in your armor tonight and I saw through it in a second.

I love you so much.

I'm not going anywhere.

P.S.

You looked upset, really upset, for a moment standing in the driveway, and you started to say something but then you stopped and looked off in the distance. And I asked what was wrong and if it was because you were late meeting your dad, even though I didn't think it was that. You said no, it's not that.

Sorry that I couldn't look you in the eye when you said that. To be honest it was because I was afraid if I looked you in the eye one of us was going to kiss the other one, or both of us were going to kiss each other at the same time. And I thought if that happened, in that moment, I wouldn't have enough self control to stop myself. So I just kept my eyes firmly averted and gave you a hug.

Scorpio and Virgo

And you are like the tides.
When you return you crash against my shore
wash every wall, every 'this is why not' away
and when you go, you take my hopes and my heart with you
back into an ocean where I can't follow
because I am the land.

Your surface is littered with love notes in bottles
hasty, angry words, ink smeared down the middle
receipts with 'I'm doing fine' and 'I think it's better this way'
scrawled across their backs like paper stitches
corks unopened, graphite running
soul untouched

I fucking hate metaphors,
their substance reduced to anecdote
like we're all just one anxiety attack away from losing ourselves
and if you are like a fish and I am like a bicycle,
that knowledge will help us hold on
while we're trying to let go

I don't dream anymore
I just see shadows on the backs of my eyelids
and maybe one of them has a name that sounds a lot like yours
and if I could only see it, I would remember
what it feels like to hold your hand
but the memory's fading

I never felt that before
Never knew someone's eyes could open the universe wide
never knew all the answers were a palm against mine
never liked winter mornings until I woke up with you
never liked the rain until it let us stay in your room
never liked churchlight until the sun shone through your window

And if being grown means agreeing that sometimes,
love just isn't enough
first star on the right, and straight on til morning.

Muninn

I know, I know things aren't always perfect.
But we're still here.
I know if this lasts, we're going to have to want it really badly.
It's not going to come easily.
I love you.
I love you when everything is quiet.
I'm safe with you.
You remember who I am. You always seem to know.
So it's okay if I forget, once in a while.
You'll remind me.
And I don't know if everything will stay in one piece, in the end.
I don't know that.
But know that I will not abandon you.
You don't have to be afraid of being left behind.
Because I know who you are.
And if you forget,
I won't leave.
I'll remind you.

Where we are

I can't really be mad at you because I understand how you feel too well.

We've had this on again, off again thing going on for five years. That's a really long time.
Every time we've been together for a long time, you've eventually gotten really depressed.
I know that you've been struggling with depression for way longer than you've known me.
I know it's not my fault.
But, it doesn't change the fact that something about being with me for a long period of time makes it come back.
Maybe it's just as simple as the fact that we're too different.
Maybe we just can't give each other what the other one needs.

When we first met, and the depression would set in, you would take it out on me.
You would get cold, and distant, and sometimes really mean.
I would eventually get so hurt that I would leave.
Then a month later, you'd reach out again. You missed me, you needed me around, you said.

Later, you stopped taking it out on me. You would stay kind, you would treat me well.
You would start internalizing it instead.
And eventually, you would get too depressed to be with anyone. You would want to isolate yourself.
You would want to be completely alone. So you'd leave me instead.
You were just depressed, you needed to disappear for a while, you needed a break, you said.

The last time I left I was gone for three months. That's the longest we've been away from each other since we met.
I really thought it was over. I was sure there wasn't anything left.
But you came back to get me. You were wrecked. You told me you loved me.
You told me you couldn't stand the thought of walking away and throwing away what we had.
You said you wanted to be together. You said you thought I was it. You said you thought about marrying me.
You told me that you would respect my decision, but you hoped you'd see me again.
The air was heavy with regret and with heartbreak.

I thought and I thought for a week, after that. I thought about the sweater you were wearing when you said that.
I thought about how soft your eyes looked when you spoke.
I thought about the way you sat by me and held my hand. Handed me your heart and trusted whatever I did with it.
About the way the lamplight cast shadows of your lashes on your cheek.

And I came back.

And now, four months later, here we are again. You're so depressed that you don't leave the house
unless it's to go to work or go grocery shopping. You've been getting worse and worse.
Don't think I didn't notice.
I didn't see you for a week, and today you texted me to tell me what you've told me before:
I'm depressed.
I can't be with anyone right now.
I feel like we need to take a break.
I just want to disappear for a while.

And I get it. I understand. I can't be angry with you. I know that sometimes we want things for ourselves
and our mental health has other plans for us.
I just wish I could trust you, but I know that you can't even trust you when you're not in control.
It's not your fault.
I wish I knew how to support you better. I wish I knew how to help.
I'm afraid that when you've finally beaten this again, and you reach out to me again, I won't come back.
Because I'll know that even your best intentions can come crashing down and leave me alone again.
But the thing I'm probably the most afraid of, is that I will come back.
That I won't be able to stop.