LittleLoveNotes

the election.

you’re still the smartest goddamn person that i know with the opinions that you have, and i want to pick your brain every bit as much as i did a year ago. two years ago. you made me think, and doubt, and argue, and challenge every belief i had in a way that no one ever had or has since.

i’m sure you have a good reason to vote for whoever you’re going to vote for.

i wish i knew what it was.

curious, and idle, and never all that good at self-control,

every damn day.

-b

I'm so scared of scaring you. Of having my dreams projected on a cave wall scare you.

But I want you.

I want you so much. Today, tomorrow.

I just see us holding hands on a couch in ugly sweaters.

I see the way I smile at you when I see you across the room at a party.

I see waking up to you and knowing every curve on your body, the way you smell after tennis, yoga, or a long night's sleep.

I see all of that.

And I'm afraid. I'm afraid you'll think I'm smothering. I'm afraid you'll think I'm limiting you. I'm afraid that you won't be there on that couch with me, feeling the warmth from the fire beat back the cold outside.

I'm afraid that all of the joy and happiness and love that I want to wrap up in a big bow and give to you each morning will get turned away.

And I'll be left holding one end of an untied ribbon.

I love you.

And half the time I say sorry it's because I'm scared that if I ask for anything or love you the way I want to...you'll be gone.

and listen to music with you, feeling our skin touch, our breaths meld into one and the beat of the music ripple across our skin like lazy fingertips drawn across a still pond.

yours,

i want to pick you up from your house in a burnt orange muscle car, preferably mustang convertible.

i want to give you 30 minutes to pack.

we'll drive to the music store and each buy 3 of our favorite albums.

i want to throw you a map when we get back in and say "find me a way North and a lake."

we'll drive with the top down and the music up. one album of yours, then one of mine. lunch, dinner. no phones, no computers, no email.

we keep driving till the stars come up and then we park out in some field and lay on a blanket we snatched from your room and say things we've never told anyone else or just sing under our breath to the tunes gently warbling out from the car's speakers.

and then i'm there with you and you fill up my whole view like a planet in the night sky.

you. in totality. your music, your jokes, your laughter, your silence.

and then i kiss you.

yours.

riding one of those-always-outside-of-grocery-stores-for-no-reason-unless-you-have-a-screaming-two-year-old rides on the street. just in the middle of the street.

it was rocking back and forth to an old country-western song.

she clearly couldn't understand the words and neither could her mother.

but they were having a great time.

do you wanna do that sometime?

no matter how hipster & cliche?

i love you and miss you.

Yours, your eyes, always.

and i dropped it and it shattered all over the floor.

and it was a key ingredient in a meal i spent an hour making.

and that i have been craving for the past week.

i am in horrible clothes.

i am strongly debating throwing good clothes on just so i can go the local store where they don't like me and i can buy another jar or something openable.

i am very sad.

but i am still yours and am thinking about you all alone and sick and cold.

am thinking about you so much and miss you dearly.

and all the little things she does that make her, her.

i'm filled with memories of her electric skin.

and her infectious grin.

and her hair.

and her.

Yours, every lonely night.

Till I'm in your arms again.

-J.

PS: That last video's haircut would look really pretty on you.

I love you so much.

I’m scared of losing you.

Can I please make a grand gesture if this ends?

Because I want to be with you.

It’s really hard to describe the enormity of the place you’ve carved out in my heart for yourself.

I don't care if this distance was a stupid idea. 

It lets me still be with you.

And if I can't wake up next to you, I can at least wake up with the dream of being next to you.

God, I need you so much in my life.

Today & Tomorrow & The Day After, yours,

out from class. they were half-sitting in a restaurant, half ruling the sidewalk.

they seemed really happy.

i like it here a lot.

they do too.

one of the barbers/hairdressers has a terrible photo advertising their services in the front window.

it's a three year old, chubby Hispanic boy with a terrible professional haircut, an ill-fitting suit and a cellphone that is way too big for him. it's adorable and hilarious and i break out laughing every time i see it.

it's really hard to be scared anywhere now. well, that's not true, but i think it's headed that way.

i feel like i slide by everywhere with a modicum of effort. i'm really happy.

i really want you here, but i love thinking about walking down these sidewalks with you, grinning.

yours, missing your hand dearly,

on lots of the women here today.

i think we were competing with each other at the grocery store to find the best deals.

it's really hard not buying things that are insanely cheap and would be SO GOOD. 

the bread looks delicious and really cheap. like thirty cents for a sandwich roll cheap.

but i've been very good at gluten-free and don't really want to change.

but it would be nice.

i should do planks. i really should.

i miss working out with you. you are the best motivation for exercise and delicious food. and also for sleeping on time. i have bags under my eyes again.

i also just started wagging my butt while writing this and thinking of you.

this was meant to be two sentences.

i really miss you, but thinking of you fills my heart with joy.

yours, wagging my tongue and my butt,

that i always pass on the way back from the grocery store. they are always standing at the fence between them and the sidewalk. she is a cute older blonde. he an older, grizzled man with long black hair. they have five dogs next to them. they are enormous.

three of them look like huskies mixed with german shepherds. the other two look like tan german shepherds.

they are really pretty and rambunctious and scary and i want them so much.

i really miss you.

and i really miss talking about our future dogs together.

i really want a big dog.

it will be the next best thing to cuddle besides you.

yours (even if we get a small dog)

that does kinda great kinda terrible blackboard drawings. one was of captain picard holding two pints like what i presume were command joysticks and saying "Engage."

they also seem to have a TARDIS permanently.

it seems like something you would really like.

and that makes me happy.

yours, happily,

but how about looking down? 

buildings don't change, but the mosaics we walk across shift every day.

i was really stressed going out today, so I looked down as I walked and I saw so many things.

a pink post-it that read in large feminine letters, still beautiful, but curling with anger: THANKS FOR HITTING ME YOU ASS.

it was next to a street. i hope it was referring to cars.

and on my street, strewn everywhere were monopoly properties. i saw park place first. does that mean i get it?

it was near a construction site. i wonder if some kid had dropped their set.

that reminds me. i need to take out the garbage and recycling today. i'll do that when i go on my second errand run today.

i love you desperately.

yours to look down with,

and everyone goes quiet as a small group of black people push loudly through the car.

i wonder.

and then one of them sets down a boombox and starts dancing. a lot of the wasp-affecting whites look down or away or out of the car. they must feel as if there is some invisible contract between looking and paying.

and no matter what, they don't want to pay.

he's good.

the subway is going straight through the tunnel and not shaking terribly, but he's still good. he does mostly a bunch of interesting joint work while his body remains still. he does a limbo, his back almost touching his heels.

people are impressed. laughing, smiling.

a lot donate.

the next day, on a subway up from chinatown, a mariachi gets on the car and starts playing. no one looks. no one pays.

i wonder if they felt ethnic-ed out after chinatown.

or maybe it's just not friday anymore.

yours on fridays and the other days,

desperately.

it's the little things like not being able to go to sleep early without you to lay next to.

or being bad at everything without you here.

or not being able to touch you. 

just to touch your skin.

and to feel the electric heat beneath your skin and the thunder in my chest.

what i wouldn't give to touch you. and to make all those memories disappear under the weight of your reality.

yours tonight,

i saw a gay couple in the gelato place. they were both bearded. one white and one black. there's a really bad joke about ice cream flavors in there somewhere.

they were absurdly happy. you could tell by the shapes of their mouths and how close they stood.

they kissed.

they were so happy and lost in each other that you couldn't feel uncomfortable watching them.

i ached for you.

yours even when i mess up singing don't stand so close to me,