I love you so much and wish for the life of me that I could tell you. Forgive this. Forgive me. Growing up with an alternative sexuality necessitates the painful integration of deceptive social patterns. At some point in adulthood keeping the peace becomes preferable to stepping overtly toward gratification. The contrast is too troublesome to give it the attention it really deserves.
I feel too complicated to do anything useful. Yet this is one of those shared personality markers that draws me unto you so strongly. Your complexity intrigues me. Ten years ago it wasn’t uncommon to stay up until four in the morning solving problems for classes, happily congratulating myself for reaching a stage where the fascination for solution-resistant situations had turned from the emotional barf of adolescence to a refined intellectualism. You have made me regress to that primordial thing that alludes description and it feels wonderful.
When we are near one another I feel something powerful. A current of being that I never feel with others. They’re still important to me but you are extraordinary. Your wit. Your talent. Your insane intuition that identifies what is so important to me. You’re so sexy. My God, you’re so attractive. I really could hug you forever.
If we both really want it it will happen. You know that, right? Sometimes I want to use this forum to command you to come closer but that is inappropriate and selfish of me. It is important to allow. To let those we love the most to float through life undisturbed with the grace that ignited the soul in the first place. And I’m not even supposed to believe in these things.
I will say right here that I want us to touch lips. Hands. Bodies. To spend another 45 minutes tenderly running my fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep when your disappointment won’t leave you alone. So often do I play with these ideas that the current of well-being will not remove its right hand from my pants. I am so ecstatic that I can still feel stuff like this. So happy to have found you under a rock in the back yard. So excited to think that in a few hours you will be back and the mere possibility will exist again.
I love you. I can’t say it out there so for now I will tell you here. I can be content with the idea that in so many ways do we already have each other, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t want more.