Letting Down

I hate you. I love you. I hate that I love you.

I don't want to love you; it means hurting you so much, it means giving up so much.  

I have these cycles with you. First we are friends, and everything is fun and everything is easy.  It's always great: you really get me, and I you; we do awesome things, and we share awesome ideas.  We're in hyper drive whenever together, everything seems clear, the world is better, the sky is bluer, I am better. It's like there are five of me, all running inside myself. I love it, I love being around you, near you; it's so simple and easy. I want to have you as my best friend in the world, and hope we can both find someone to love one day. But then being around other people starts to suck, because they DON'T get me, and they don't put me in hyperdrive, and the world without you turns slow and grey and drab. Suddenly I don't like girls; I can't have sex with girls consistently, and they seem boring, dull, dreamless.  I suspect I'm gay and try guys, but that's worse. No one sees the world like us, no one is like that. Before I know it I want to spend my life beside you, fall asleep beside you and hold you through the night and wake up beside you in the morning. It's platonic and not platonic in a weird way - I never wanted to have sex with you, but god I wanted to wake up beside you. I'd like to go through life living in shitholes and eating every other day, or living in artsy apartments with countryside scenery; banana pancakes and fresh orange juice in the morning. And before I know it I'm resisting an unstoppable urge to get on the first plane and fuck the world. I resist that urge often.

And it feels like you kind of maybe sometimes feel the same. SO I RUN AWAY. I disappear.  I run away because I have to, because after a month without you I can date girls, and live a normal (if somewhat dull) life. I run away because I know, that if I pursue you properly – If I act upon the romantic nesting just below my skin and chase you round the world with grand romantic gestures and never let you go – well, there's a chance you might settle for me. You shouldn't; there are things you need I can never give you, not just physical stuff. I don't always love you; it sort of comes and goes - sometimes you just annoy me and seem petty and childish and stupid. When you're annoying you are really annoying. I run away because if either of us is ever to love someone properly – I need you to stay a small portion of my life, inspiring but containable, and when we are close, well, you never had a girlfriend either in the time's we were close.

So I let you down – again and again, I disappear and I disappoint time and again. I really am a good guy; I'm not a letter downer, it's only with you. It happens when it gets to intense; when your spirit overwhelms me so much that I can barely stop myself from walking or driving or flying to wherever you are. So I disappear, get a life, get a girlfriend, go all the way down to kind of missing you and go through the cycle again. I didn't think I'd get there blogging, blogging seemed relaxed when we spoke of it.   

In a way I don't love you much, but in a certain way I love you so much. I think you have more loving capacity then me - I think you can truly love a bunch of people; It doesn't work like that for me – I love dancing girls, and I like pretty girls, and I like articulate girls and I like a whole lot of girls, but well, I can't love them and you, so sometimes, when it's healthy for me, and I hope it's okish for you I disappear on you.

I hope you understand... Kind of.

I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I really do not like loving you very much. Or maybe I'm just a dumb coward. It's fucking complicated.

Talking to the walls

Dear Isaacs,

I've been talking to the walls lately. More or less like I am doing right now. I've been writing these letters to you and I have not heard from you for a while. But don’t feel guilty. You are not the only one.

I sat in my room drinking a beer and just stared at the blue-green walls. I was wondering what would be simpler. To tell them how I feel or to tell the people. Eventually the result would be the same.
People assume they know you head to toe. They know how you feel, what you think. Am I easy to read, Isaacs? Can she really know what I feel for her?

I'll be honest, I was never good with words. I was never the first one to say "I love you". I was only able to say it when I didn't. And when I did, the words just didn't fly out of my mouth. They just hid there behind my teeth, fearing that if they come out, it all becomes real. And then? Then the pain begins.

I'm not saying my pain. Probably hers. Or mine. I have no clue, Isaacs. I spoke to Halo a couple of days ago. She told me she never understood why I broke up with her. Seeing that question, from my first love, I thought of letting her know that I'm a cunt. That she should have known better. But I just told her that she was simply not the one.

I always thought of myself as a simple person. All you need to do is just love me and I will love you back. That's not true. I should have warned her that I was a hypocrite. That I wanted things in her that she couldn't give. That I'm no good in communication. That I would never tell her what's going on with me and hope she will read my mind. That unless she asks me an exact question, I will never give her an exact answer. I need patience and to be taught how to show what is in my heart.

But to stand there and tell me that I don't care enough? To tell me that I am not to be trusted with a heart? To just disappear from my life as if I am nothing? Never speak a word on why? I'm a hypocrite, I am. But God damn, so are YOU! I have been called a lot of things in my life. But I try. I never walk out. I never give up. I try to push as hard as I can until it starts to hurt. Until there is not more force in me.  I have done horrible things.

But I have never broken a heart on purpose.

I Love you

I've drowned myself in you for a moment, but then I woke up. I got up, dusted you off and started walking away, not looking back. I walked through a desert of hangovers and addictions, parched. I remember my sole-less feet stepping on the dry land, my gaze searching for a shade. Looking to the horizon, I loved you.

I kept walking day and night, my feet bleeding, my soul weeping. Climbing the rocks on the hills on a land so vast. I stopped when all went grey and rain started falling on my face. Looking up to these skies, stretching my arms out wide, I loved you.

I kept walking till the sun came up, my soaking wet body, I decided to get rid of my clothes. They felt heavy and wrong. I shed them off as the sun came up and pealed them away from my skin. The cold wind brushing through my hair, my eyes closed, I loved you.

I climbed mountains and the higher I went, the colder it got. I cut my hands on the rocks, the dirty roads and my shameful regrets. I came to the pick and stood there, the snow falling on my dark hair, missing my warm clothes, taking one last breath before the jump, I loved you.

Falling seemed like forever. Painful, frightening, yet liberating. Infinite. I felt infinite. I started forgetting. My mind went blank. I knew nothing more of the past. I landed in a field and made my way into the woods. Cuts and scratches from all the branches. My feet ached no more, with a purpose in my heart, some peace in my mind, I loved you.

I came to a pond. I kneeled down to drink and saw a face in the reflection in the water. I did not know who it was. It was mine but I did not recognize it. It was me of my past. I tried to reach, I tried to touch it, but the moment I did, it disappeared and your face came up in this reflection. I lied and wept on your lap. I cried away the pain while you were passing you fingers through my hair, telling me it will be OK. Telling me it will pass. I looked at you. I knew. Right there I knew. For the first moment in my life I knew who you are. Who you are, and that I love you.