i have hiccups.
i have hiccups and it is two in the morning.
i have hiccups and it is two in the morning and tech starts tomorrow.
but mainly i’m ready to stop being so scared of everything.
i have a wonderful mother.
i have a supportive father.
i have hilarious siblings.
i have the closest friends.
i have food in the fridge,
and sheets on my bed,
and a roof over my head,
and a new laptop charger.
i have a future ahead of me.
and on good days,
(days like today)
i wish everyone was as lucky as me.
(but i wish my fingers weren’t grasping, wanting more, and i am so content, but hardly ever satisfied, and is that something you grow out of, because i was done growing by 8th grade, taller and wider than everyone, and i really do have everything i think i could ever want, but my body thinks otherwise, tossing and turning at night, keeping my teeth clenched and my mind active, and i just have questions that i feel like can’t be answered.)
anything you’d like! can be fan-based or not.
i am clunky and loud and forgetful and silly and standoffish and embarrassing and mischievous and scared nearly always, but damned if i show that, which is where you’ll get confused and frustrated and i’m sorry in advance for that but really all i want always is a meal we cook together, a dog we walk together, a tiny san francisco flat we clean together, and a pillow we drool on/fight over/share together.
'a tornado touching down in kansas would have more empathy.'
never have truer words been spoken. hurt him, i hurt you. and that’s that.
on sunny days like this, i don’t want to be in love with anyone ever again.
on sunny days like this, i don’t want to stay cooped up in a big house, or in a small town, or in a medium bed.
on sunny days like this, i don’t want to talk about weddings or sexism or money or ‘making love’.
i want to talk about dogs. and san francisco. and pretty words. and prettier songs. and prettiest people. and coffee. and daffodils.
and i want to talk about it in some place that eases the restlessness. i want to talk about it in a sanctuary, an oasis where i don’t see the familiar, because i am craving the big-city-living, where i will catch eyes with thousands and only see 3 of those people ever ever again. i want to talk about it with you, or maybe no one at all, or maybe someone that requires an introduction.
on sunny days like this, i crave elsewhere most of all. and i think that makes me sad, but i think it mostly makes me hopeful for sunnier days in elsewhere.
it doesn’t appear in my eyes or in the lines of my smile or anywhere you can see.
it doesn’t line my vocal cords or bubble past my lips in excited strung-together phrases that come so naturally to everyone else.
it comes with time, and it comes with answered questions. it has to travel far, mind you, over walls of insecurities and miles of memories.
but if you let me write to you, you will know. you will have no doubts nor hesitations. i can easily fill a journal, compile a novel for the ways i love you. and i hope that is enough.