Stol, Stul, Stil.

“You understand everything but know nothing.”

And I wonder if you see my name on your phone and your heart breaks a little. If you receive my phone call and you choose not to answer because you know my voice might make you sad. If the idea of that exchange might break the glass house you’ve built around your soul. I wonder if you talk to the moon with a glass of whisky when you can’t sleep. Or if you play my favorite song on the way to work without meaning to. I wonder if you have to quiet the fire in your chest every night before you fall asleep, and if you’ve named the flames after me. Because mine breaks a little. I choose not to answer sometimes. I’ve got a glass house. And I talk to the moon too. My fires are named after you and for fuck sake I’m running out of ways to say that I miss you.

Be alone. Eat alone, take yourself on dates, sleep alone. In the midst of this you will learn about yourself. You will grow, you will figure out what inspires you, you will curate your own dreams, your own beliefs, your own stunning clarity, and when you do meet the person who makes your cells dance, you will be sure of it, because you are sure of yourself.

I know you’ll think this is crazy, but all I want to do is hold you, and I think that if you’ll let me do that just for a few seconds, I can walk away, and never speak to you again.

And one day we’ll end up speaking through bottled letters. Such a romantic way to keep a love alive.