• What am I Doing….

    by  • February 10, 2016 • * Safe for Work *, Thinking of you • 0 Comments

    P,
    It’s 4:30am.
    My mind is racing in a million directions, but always comes back to you.

    You have been lightning in my veins for ten years… We haven’t been in the same room for five… I don’t know who you are anymore, but I hope you are still the kind, quiet, but fiery soul that you were. There are letters to you on here, many.

    You don’t know it, but you saved my life all those years ago. I was waist deep in the lake when my phone rang. I was done, but then you were there, asking simple questions that shook me back to sense. We became friends, you listened to me, I to you.

    I always felt like a nuisance.

    That last night at the skate park, I almost told you. I’m sorry I cried. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I was so scared.

    I am still scared.

    Even the thought of seeing you sets my skin on fire, shoots tremors through my soul. I must’ve meant something to you, my ink forever scrolled down your arm, but I am terrified of possible rejection.

    Gods. I have been through too much. I thought I found my soulmate, but that ship is getting dashed upon the rocks, and instead of trying to unravel the sails I’m thinking of you.

    What am I doing?
    Is this a quarter-life crises? I could forever live in sweet, docile, marriage land, but I would throw it away for even one week with you. I have always loved you, let me and I can know you again. I want your arms around me, I want to show you the violence in my heart. I want to show you the depths of my lust.
    Ten years of penting this up is disastrous.
    Please don’t see this… No, do.
    Terrifying…
    Fuck.
    Don’t.

    Whatever happens, please, give me a chance…

    Just a chance to thank you face to face. My life feels dishonest without you knowing, it pulls at me so often.

    I found your number in my old contacts… I hope it is still current, I hope you answer…

    Please…

    How cruel, I can’t leave my initials, they’re the same as someone else you’ve loved.

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