It was not until much later that I discovered hopes the same as mine in Heliogabalus, emperor of Rome in its period of decay, that destroyer of Rome’s anciet gods, that decadent, bestial monarch.

I do all this alone, everything I achieve, I achieve alone, because it’s my head I’m locked into, and I share this space with nobody but myself.

I want you to hold my hand while we grocery shop. I want you to play with my hair while we watch our favorite tv shows. I want you to kiss me in the middle of my sentence because you wanted to taste my words. I want you to rub my back as we fall asleep. I want you to play my favorite song when I look sad. I want you to do these things without having to think about them. Do them because you love me.

I fall in love with people’s passion. The way their eyes light up when they talk about the thing they love and the way they fill with light.

I dream of a language whose words, like fists, would fracture jaws.