If tomorrow I had to die, I would spend today with you.
Sunday, 8 July 2012
Thursday, 5 July 2012
Eye
I remember you walking in that day. It was cold outside and you were bundled up in your long black jacket and one of your many scarves. You looked stunning. We talked for a couple minutes before you left to start your work and I continued mine.
At the end of the day, I probably stared at that phone on the wall for a good six minutes before I found the courage to pick it up and call your extension.
Your voice. My heart jumped. Inside I was panicking, but somehow, outside I was calm and collected.
I did it. I asked you for your number. And you gave it! That astounded me. I got to the car and sent you a text so you'd have my number. We exchanged a couple joke texts before you went back to work and I went home to sleep.
Later that day, after I had slept, my phone rang. It was you. Our of the blue, and for no reason except to chat. I was soaring through the clouds. Talk about being blown away. You got my number and you sent me a text? You started the conversation? No girl has ever done that. Not with me. Not ever.
I was definitely smiling like a doofus that day.
You say you want to meet a guy like in the movies? Blow him away as soon as you meet him? Make him think about you day and night? Turn him into a blithering idiot when you're on his mind?
Well, scratch that off your bucket list. It already happened.
Saturday, 30 June 2012
Darling
My Darling,
First and foremost, I love you. Above everything else, that will always remain the same. Promise.
I'm a bit of a pain, aren't I? I'm frustrating, problematic, and dramatic, just to name a few. I'm nowhere near perfect and the good days aren't always worth the bad. Because of this, my dear, I am going to ask something of you. I need you to help me be a better man, to be a better friend.
When you are angry, when you are frustrated, when you are sad, when you are happy, when you are excited, when you are miserable, when you are tired, when you are at your wits end, I ask you to do one thing.
Tell me.
When you feel any of these, when I have caused you to experience these emotions, I need you to tell me. Communication and trust are the backbone of a healthy relationship, romantic or otherwise. If I don't know what I'm doing wrong, how will I know to stop? If I don't know what I'm doing right, how will I know to continue? That much is your responsibility. I count on you to tell me these these things just as much as you count on me to tell you the same of myself. I want nothing to come between us.
The point I'm trying to make, my precious, is that I an here to make you happy. I am here to make you laugh and smile like a doofus. Please help me do that. You deserve nothing less.
After all is said and done, I love you. No words or actions by anyone could ever change that.
With all my love,
Theodore
Thursday, 21 June 2012
Indicative of Love
What are these tears for? I'm not sure that I know anymore. I think I used to, but now, not quite. All day, it's a struggle to hold them back, to keep a smile on my face and go about my life. So I work. I don't stop. If I keep going, maybe I won't remember that my walls are about to crumble. Finally, my body gives out, beaten down in exhaustion. Thoughts stacked upon thoughts stacked upon compiled thoughts race through my mind. The tears break through my defences. But even these tears can't compete with this exhaustion and I drift into sleep.
I wake. I jump up and stumble back to work. I'm not quite awake yet. The remainder of the shift goes by in a blur. Then I talk to you; start feeling better. Maybe these tears will go away after all. But leave it to me to fuck up, as usual. I try to help, try to do the right thing, be a good friend, but all I do is fuck up.
The walls just shatter. My head hung in shame, sobs shake me and the tears fall to the floor. All happiness to see you evaporates. All excitement to eat breakfast with you at your desk disappears. Time and time again, I fail. I fall short of the most meager expectations. I feel useless, distraught and so helplessly alone. I am losing you and you're never going to want to come back.
But work goes on. I force the tears back, just above the edge. I push myself to keep going. Even so late in the shift, the work keeps coming. I have no choice but to soldier on.
Then, finally, I'm done. My day can come to a close. And then you walk in. So beautiful. No. Ravishing. Even now, you take the breath right out of me. In one moment of seeing you, I am flooded with months worth of memories of you and me, carefree and happy.
We talk in your office for a while, hurt feelings and annoyance barely hidden behind forced smiles and hollow laughter. I am happy to see you, but... It's not the same. You're not you. I'm not me. I don't recognise at all the two people talking. But you are enough to make the pressure of tears ease away. It still cheers me up to see you.
And then you drop your bomb.
It's just a few words, but it feels like you punched me in the chest. Almost literally. My heart aches at the strain. Anxiety rolls over me like a tidal wave. Walls already gone, the flood of ever-present tears forces it's way to the surface. In the midst of such a brutal assault of emotion, I realise what such a physical reaction is indicative of. I need to escape.
I make a quick goodbye and hurry out without looking at you. I barely make it to my car before the tears break through again. Before the sobs come and turn me into a withering heap. The drive home is unbearably long. I sit in my driveway for even longer.
Why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this? Am I not allowed to be happy? I didn't ask for much, did I? Why does no one give a damn about me? I could go on. These questions are racing through my mind constantly now. Why?
Fuck, I love you.
Thursday, 14 June 2012
4/14
Remember that day on the island? In all our good times, even the times we've had lately, I don't think any compete with that day. Our long walk, the bridge, the pier, the picnic table, the boat. I can't wait to take you back to that bridge. There's one moment I want to recreate. But every aspect of that day was incredible. I was sad to see it end, but the memory will forever bring a smile to my face.
Fast forward a few weeks. Remember that day you dressed in your red polka-dotted dress? Mini golf, chicken wings, the car. Memory number two that will always cause a smile to crease my face. Every tiny detail still stands out to me. That spot at the top of the stairs before the seventh hole will send chills through my spine every time I pass by. The spot where I found you again. I smile like a goofy idiot just thinking of that day.
So here's to you; to us. Whether we last forever, or not even to the end of this post, let us look back on these memories and smile. Smile like goofy idiots.
Oh, and by the way, please take special note of the title. You should get that one.
Thursday, 7 June 2012
Wet Blanket
I lower my gaze from the sky to look at you. With your head on my shoulder and your eyes closed, you are more stunning than I ever thought it possible for a person to be. My heart jumps in my chest. I can't believe I'm really here. I can't believe you're really here. With me.
A myriad of emotions wash through me. The strongest feeling of those I recognise is determination. Determination to never hurt you. Determination to never make you cry. Determination to never lose you. No matter what, I cannot let that happen.
I put my arm around you and you snuggle in closer to me. I look back up to the sky. But I don't see clouds. I don't see blue sky.
All I see is you.
Friday, 1 June 2012
$15
But I wish I had something more. I wish I had a piece of that bridge. I wish I had the stone you were standing on when you kissed me. That kiss. The first of our last. That moment lasted forever and not long enough.
I wish I had a piece of that pier. You were so scared of the water meters below, but your fear seemed to melt away when I held you. It disappeared completely when I kissed you, even when I leaned you out over the railing. How could I ever forget that?
I wish I had a piece of that bench. The first sunset I ever sat and watched from downtown was right there with you. And standing in front of you sitting on that bench, holding you, kissing you... It brings such a mixture of fondness and sadness. But I will always cherish that moment.
I wish I had a piece of that boat. You were so cold and you wanted to go downstairs to get away from the water, but you stayed with me because I wanted to enjoy the air as we floated along. Rubbing your arms to warm you up may have been futile, but it was the last time I ever held you as we were then. I'll carry that to my grave.
I wish I had a piece of you. It sounds weird, maybe even sick, but I wish i could have a part of you to keep with me forever as a reminder of the time of my life.
But I do have a piece of you, don't I? You left an imprint on my heart, my Pumpkin. You left your mark on me. Yes, it created a deep scar that will take something major to heal, but it's you, and I wouldn't give it up for the world. Not the entire fucking world.