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Dear you,

We live together now. It has been great so far, except for those moments when you make me feel it’d be best to eradicate myself from existence.

You know, I always, ALWAYS, am ecstatic to take you out and show you off. I state to the world: ”Here ye, here ye, see my love!” and I feel content that you are mine and no one else’s- even when you are inebriated and make a spectacle out of yourself. Even then, without qualms or dismays, I still love you and continue to build up the shrine I’ve put you on.

However, it’s times like these when I wonder if you actually value that or if you even actually feel the same as I do.

You see, I can’t make a spectacle out of myself for even one night without having to face repercussions the next morning.

It’s outrageous! It’s not equal, it’s not fair.

I’m not allowed to intoxicate and release but you are? I’m not allowed to get away with it the following morning and wake up to your tenderness, but you are?

What makes you and I so different? As far as I’m concerned, we are both in our 20’s, we both like to be young and free and careless and that is actually what brought us together.

Why the change now?

I hope you figure it out and map it out for me when you figure it out- I’ve had it with trying to understand your erratic train of thought.

Love,
Me

Dear You,
I wish I could hold onto that look in your eyes when you said goodbye today.
I wish I could never forget how long you took to turn around.
I wish I could burn a picture of your smile into my mind and never forget it.
I wish we weren’t so hopeless.

Dear you,
Thank you. That was the first time I ever really let myself cry in front of someone that wasn’t family. You made me feel safe, and you didn’t judge me, or laugh at me, or mention it the next day. You just hugged me, asked me if I was all right, and brought me a birthday cappuccino the next day. I can’t begin to tell you how much that means to me. I love you, I honestly do. Not in a sexual way, not in a ”I wanna date you” way. I just love you. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do for you. You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had. Thank you for that.
Love,
Me.

It was kind of like the twisting of a dagger into my mind, which no asprin seemed to remedy…..

Dreams are strange things. One who doesn’t dream often have personality disorders, or that’s what the internet says. I don’t dream, not lately anyway. Often I’ve had dreams confuse with reality, my imagination on overdrive. I was on a stage, a soft blue light shone upon it, casting it in a cool shade of underwater color for the scene. One side was my best friend, but no, it was Ariel, the mermaid princess singing A Part Of Your World with all her heart, as if seeing the Prince for the first and last time. Upon my hands were my trusting bow and below my chin was a sea-green violin. It was perfect, it’s structure, it’s weight, design, length, complex scales painted by hand upon it’s shell. The spotlight shine upon my friend but I could still see in the cool blue light the algae texture of my dress, the soft colors of green and grey that camouflage with the scene, except that when I moved, light flashed and danced, making a kaleidoscope, making the dark audience cheer and catcall. The song was familiar and my body moved with it, playing the violin with practiced strokes a melody to complement the voice but so unique that it stands out. The music was loud but oh so pleasant in my ears, a lullaby for a crooning baby. I knew my place and shined like I belonged there. This is my soul that wishes it, no power, no trophy, no fame. Just acceptance.

It was kind of like that moment at a concert when nothing but that very second matters, no every day problems could pierce the shroud of bliss that encased you.