The walls are different now, but they’re as empty as the ones 150 miles from you. In these moments of innumerable depths and dark sadness, I catch glimpse of the nothingness of being without you. It makes me sure, it makes me steady, it makes me found.
It makes me look at the sun setting, filling the sky with orange soda and all the beauty in the smile of a star, and realize how absolutely fucking ugly it is without you to smile back at it.
It pulls through my throat, my heart, my eyes, it pulls me to you. It’s always pulled me to you.
No matter what, no matter where, no matter when, it’s you and it’s me and all those songs, all those words, all that sadness, all that emptiness, was a place in my arms you were meant to fill.
I want you as my wife. I want you as my friend. I want you to twist inside me until there’s no letting go.
I want you to know that I know who we are, and I want you to know that who I was is almost yours and nothing more.
Please come home soon.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
I Think I Saw Myself in This Puddle Once
Posted by John D. at 9:23 AM
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