Just a couple things I wrote a little while ago. When the moment strikes, you just go with it, you know?
Before we get to those though, some updates. One, a week without cutting has gone down the drain. And the second update is why. Ian may very possibly not be coming to prom. Last I heard, his mom isn't very receptive to the idea, and she won't let him go. It doesn't make any sense to me. I mean, we've decided that if prom doesn't happen, then he'll come down for my birthday, which has its own pros (like he'd be able to come for longer, more things to do, etc.), but it's not the same. I'll have other birthdays, but not another senior prom.
I know this distance is impermanent, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. And last night when he told me about what his mom said, it was hours of disagreement and pain. Longing. Sorrow. I ended up saying things I wish I hadn't. I can't speak for him, but it felt like we were going to be ending things before they even really began. That terrified me. I love him so incredibly much, and I know we're going to be okay once we get to Rochester in the fall (if I'm being really honest with myself we're going to be doing much, much better than "okay"), but that doesn't change where we are now: 1,200 miles apart. It's a different timezone (by an hour, but it's becoming increasingly agitating). And when seeing each other in the next five months before move-in day slowly starts being less and less of an option, it hurts. A lot; more than a lot, truthfully. He was supposed to ask her tonight, but she has rehearsal for a show, so soon, considering time is of the essence in regards to tickets and the limo thing.
Then, combined with this prom thing is a concern I'd brought up about "being official" on Facebook, which in retrospect was stupid because I don't even know what we are, so how is being "In a Relationship with Ian..." going to help that? Since that night, I've come to the conclusion that we can't define what we are, but it doesn't matter. What we both know is that we love each other, miss each other something terrible, and recognize that the time at Rochester could lead to something neither of us understand quite yet. But "we" could be something incredibly special. We've proven that by the simple action of calling him my boyfriend not even covering what we feel. I have started saying "yeah, we're together" when asked, though, because that's as close as I can get to accurate.
Maybe we're moving a bit fast, not only because I recently came out of a relationship and he's only just fully moved on from his ex, but we've only known each other for a little over a month. Maybe we're crazy. However, it's impossible to deny that whatever this is, is radically different than anything we've ever experienced, and we have time to sort everything out. So much time. He's so different and amazing and everything to me, and I want to make sure we do this right.
So, without further ado, here are those poems.
I know this distance is impermanent, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. And last night when he told me about what his mom said, it was hours of disagreement and pain. Longing. Sorrow. I ended up saying things I wish I hadn't. I can't speak for him, but it felt like we were going to be ending things before they even really began. That terrified me. I love him so incredibly much, and I know we're going to be okay once we get to Rochester in the fall (if I'm being really honest with myself we're going to be doing much, much better than "okay"), but that doesn't change where we are now: 1,200 miles apart. It's a different timezone (by an hour, but it's becoming increasingly agitating). And when seeing each other in the next five months before move-in day slowly starts being less and less of an option, it hurts. A lot; more than a lot, truthfully. He was supposed to ask her tonight, but she has rehearsal for a show, so soon, considering time is of the essence in regards to tickets and the limo thing.
Then, combined with this prom thing is a concern I'd brought up about "being official" on Facebook, which in retrospect was stupid because I don't even know what we are, so how is being "In a Relationship with Ian..." going to help that? Since that night, I've come to the conclusion that we can't define what we are, but it doesn't matter. What we both know is that we love each other, miss each other something terrible, and recognize that the time at Rochester could lead to something neither of us understand quite yet. But "we" could be something incredibly special. We've proven that by the simple action of calling him my boyfriend not even covering what we feel. I have started saying "yeah, we're together" when asked, though, because that's as close as I can get to accurate.
Maybe we're moving a bit fast, not only because I recently came out of a relationship and he's only just fully moved on from his ex, but we've only known each other for a little over a month. Maybe we're crazy. However, it's impossible to deny that whatever this is, is radically different than anything we've ever experienced, and we have time to sort everything out. So much time. He's so different and amazing and everything to me, and I want to make sure we do this right.
So, without further ado, here are those poems.
Thoughts
Falling tears.
Deafening sobs.
A broken heart split so deep,
the
Grand Canyon becomes a
mere
dent in the earth.
Of course it’s all covered up.
Make-up.
Straightened
hair.
“Beautiful”
smile.
---“Pull your shit together!”
And who could see behind
the
mask of my façade
unless
I let him?
You
know, The One?
Yet I expected people to notice.
I say I’m better.
I help people like I used to be
every
day,
---And
mostly,
I’m
okay.
Then there are times I
actually
need someone,
and
I see there’s no
place
to go.
Nowhere
to feel safe.
No
one’s there.
“Alone.”
Someone, anyone, see.
See me
before
there’s nothing left
to
see---
“Except
you forgot your body.”
Burn it.
Incinerate it into ashes.
Let it be the end.
Bring on the end.
I Love You: 3/6
No chance I’m saying it first.
Especially not right now.
It’ll be tainted.
But that doesn’t change what
I
know.
I know it’s you who unfroze
the
ink in this pen and
the
blood in my veins.
I know it’s you who
released
the music into my heart.
I know it’s you. All you.
Yes
I like you,
but
I can’t love you yet.
Or at least, I won’t admit it.
But I’m sure you know by now.
I’m not doing a good job of
hiding it.
Maybe I don’t want to;
maybe
I want to scream
“I
love you” from the
top
of my lungs,
and
there’s just someone
I
don’t want to hear me.
You were right.
I don’t need you;
I’d
be okay without you.
But I’m tired of just being okay.
I want to be
amazing.
I want to be
happy.
I want to be
loved,
in
all ways possible
to
be loved.
I want you.
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