It's You.

I don't expect anyone to understand.

Hell. 

I don't understand. 

But I kind of think the most painfully beautiful things in life often make no fucking sense. 

And yes, I am a romantic. 

And I believe in the overwhelming, intoxicating force that is love. 

I think you can love anyone and you can fuck anyone and you can live any number of different versions of your life and be happy. 

You seem really happy. 

I am happy. But I'm happier with you.

But there are a few rare things, a person or two in a lifetime, that are game changers. 

And their presence takes your joy to an incomparable level. 

And likely, with such intense joy, there is also intense pain. 

And your friends think you're making the wrong choice. 

And they're probably right. 

Except they don't understand that there's no moral compass when it comes to matters of the heart and body and soul. 

It simply is. 

And giving in is sometimes the only way to live truthfully. 

This time is different because we've connected in every way 

but

physically. 

It's frustrating and also painfully -literally- beautiful, because in the fifteen months I'd known this person it was the first night I realized how deeply connection existed between us. 

Great sex is easy to right off as common lust, pheromones and base carnal instinct, stemming from nothing other than body chemistry. 

And really girl, you should think with your head and not your pussy. 

But great sex and great conversation?

Great sex and three hour phone calls that leave you physically aching for one another but also so contentedly happy simply to hear the resonance of the other persons voice?

The truth is often a complex thing. 

We're so ingrained to believe things are this or that. 

You are or you aren't. 

When truth, truth is often a little of both. 

And the truth I can communicate may not even encompass my actual truth because there are truths within me I haven't even acknowledged yet. 

And maybe some truths can never be fully lived. 

He loves. 

And I love. 

And it doesn't make sense. 

And it's reckless and unstable and unpredictable and painfully inconsistent. 

But it is. 

And it's me. 

It's him. 

And it's you. It's you. And it's you. 

And I don't know. 

I sincerely have no fucking idea. 

But

Any day is brighter with you in it. 

And timing 

Timing

Fucking timing 

FUCK

It giveth

And then takes it all

Every tingle in my body

Every overwhelming smile that fucking hurts my face

Every fantasy

Fantasy I hate that word, but you are, you are my fantasy

The images of every place we'd make love

The movies we'd see

The cuddles and chats and hours spent endlessly falling deeper, further in love

Further at the mercy of the others hands

Simply to be

Exist entirely

In the blissful state that had alluded us both the entirety of our time

Peaceful

Full of peace

Simply to sleep

Per chance to dream

No

No longer need of dreams

For finally being in

In the dream that haunted both our nights

Continually knawing at our insides

Go

Go to her

Go to him

And life continues

And there is joy without each other 

There is fire and laughter and tears and rage 

That exist in a life void of this dream. 

But my heart-

My heart hears the soft cry of his 

singing for mine

And where time trudges on

And I, at its mercy, march forward,

The belief in this love pervades 

Breathes life

Into my longing soul 

I used to go there just so I could look at you. Because just seeing you made me happy.

Don't you think I fed on those moments? That maybe they got me through the day, through everything?