That's your cue, Batman

I talked to my Mom about you last night. 

I told her even though it's really fucked up I wish I could just be with you.

You're the only one who knows how incredibly fucked up I am and still thinks the sun shines out my ass. 

And that really is worth a lot isn't it?

I told someone how I wrote a really mean blog about you when I was mad once and you told me I was a good writer. 

I wrote hateful, shitty things and you responded by telling me I was talented. 

Fuck, I want a love like that in my life. 

I told you I always think about you when some guy has broken my heart. 

It really is kinda broken. 

I actually thought about doing coke last week. 

I didn't. 

I won't, cuz we all know how crazy addictive my personality is. 

Just dicks and whiskey, that's enough of an addiction for me. 

And sometimes cigarettes. But only when I'm already drunk. Cuz sometimes it's just like, fuck. Ya know?

You were there that night all those months ago, the night I was all butt hurt he had a girlfriend. 

It actually feels kinda ridiculous to be hurting over him again. 

How did we figure it out?

Pining for each other in a way that somehow still let us feel free to live without each other?

I guess that's what makes our screwed up connection so beautiful. 

He follows my posts like you. 

Reads my blog. 

I'm pretty sure he blocked my number again but he's never blocked me on facebook and I'm sure he never will. 

He likes to watch me. 

Who does that sound like? My mom asked me. 

Batman, I said. 

I guess that's why my brain thought he was supposed to be something great, you know?

His worship kinda felt like the way you look at me. 

But he always ends up cutting me out.

He won't communicate. 

And you would never do that. 

And it really calms my spirit knowing you're out there somewhere, rooting for me, sending me love in quiet moments when no one's looking. 

Everyone says it's not supposed to be this hard. 

Love. 

Makes me feel like I must be doing something wrong. 

Love always feels fucking hard. 

I love too much, I guess. 

Scare the shit out of everyone. 

I miss you. 

But sometimes I pretend I'm driving behind you. 

Or that you're gonna be waiting at the top of the stairs when I'm on a run. 

And we'll see each other and smile, and you'll give me a hug and squeeze me hard. 

And then we'll walk away and look back at each other. 

Because some things are never over. 

Even if they can never be. 

And I don't know why him and I can't send each other love late at night the way you and I can. 

But I don't think he ever loved me the way you did. 

But I wanted him to. 

And that's a start, right?

Believing in love. 

Believing in a connection strong enough to withstand years and separation and other bodies in our beds. 

I guess I just wanted to say I was thinking of you. 

And I wanted to thank you. 

For being the only man I've ever loved who didn't shut me out and run away. 

I will always love you for that.

Six years and counting, darling. 

Thank heaven some things remain when everything else surrounding me is in constant change.