Transient Reverie

it has been almost ten months

time is a funny thing

it has been almost a year and it feels like i can still smell your skin when i think of hugging you

it had seven years to permeate 

permanently alter the structures of my amygdala and hippocampus

reinforce its patterns day after after week after month over year

seven of them

and suddenly youre gone

and suddenly we’re nothing

not best friends not partners not lovers, we’re not even acquainted

you didnt have a good grasp on me but you had your hold and now i pretend you dont.

you still do but i dont give you the satisfaction

i say we can’t be in each other’s lives, not because i dont want us to be, but because i am trying this new thing my therapist and friends all call self respect and self care

i dont get it

pain is not enough of a word

there is no word for this

griefmourningmyinsideswanttobeoutside

i’m whimpering and sniveling and i can’t utter a word

and you’re reaching out

your light is on

you want to be there

but i cant let you

why cant i let you

My favorite way to spend the day is…

If I could talk to my teenage self, the one thing I would say is…

The two moments I’ll never forget in my life are… Describe them in great detail, and what makes them so unforgettable.

Make a list of 30 things that make you smile.

“Write about a moment experienced through your body. Making love, making breakfast, going to a party, having a fight, an experience you’ve had or you imagine for your character. Leave out thought and emotion, and let all information be conveyed through the body and senses.” (A prompt from Barbara Abercrombie’s creative book Kicking In The Wall: A Year of Writing Exercises, Prompts and Quotes To Help You Break Through Your Blocks And Reach Your Writing Goals.)

The words I’d like to live by are…

I couldn’t imagine living without…

When I’m in pain — physical or emotional — the kindest thing I can do for myself is…

Make a list of the people in your life who genuinely support you, and who you can genuinely trust. (Then make time to hang out with them.)

What does unconditional love look like for you?

What would you do if you loved yourself unconditionally? How can you act on these things whether you do or don’t?

I really wish others knew this about me…

Name what is enough for you.

If my body could talk, it would say…

Name a compassionate way you’ve supported a friend recently. Then write down how you can do the same for yourself.

What do you love about life?

What always brings tears to your eyes? (As Paulo Coelho has said, “Tears are words that need to be written.”)

“Write about a time when work felt real to you, necessary and satisfying. Paid or unpaid, professional or domestic, physical or mental.” (Also a prompt from Abercrombie’s Kicking in the Wall.)

Write about your first love — whether a person, place or thing.

Using 10 words, describe yourself.

What’s surprised you the most about your life or life in general?

What can you learn from your biggest mistakes?

I feel most energized when…

“Write a list of questions to which you urgently need answers.” (This is probably my favorite prompt from Abercrombie’s book.)

Make a list of everything that inspires you — from books to websites to quotes to people to paintings to stores to the stars.

What’s one topic you need to learn more about to help you live a more fulfilling life? (Then learn about it.)

I feel happiest in my skin when…

Make a list of everything you’d like to say no to.

Make a list of everything you’d like to say yes to.

Write the words you need to hear.

you caressed my thighs on the park bench 

the park i walked through every day

your strong hands working the length of my calves

near our old building

your fingertips felt electric

we smiled together

i held on to the lapels of your peacoat as you kissed me

less than 24 hours later - “Just do me the favor and delete me now, thank you.”

just like that, the curtains close. we walk to center stage and take a bow, holding hands.

it was mutual. but it doesn't make it any harder or any less painful.

we were together for seven years. my therapist once told me that people go through developmental phases every seven years. it seems as though ours lined up, but we grew in different directions.

it's hard because you're so familiar. there is comfort in the familiar. when i cry, i want you to hold me. when i watch you cry, it takes everything inside of me not to reach out and hold your hand or wipe your tears away. but our distance, the thing that feels so painful, is what will also allow us to heal.

i think that will be the hardest part of living together. seeing each other suffer, maybe prompted by the presence of the other, and not being able to do much to comfort the other person.

last week, you sobbed and as i put my hand on your thigh to comfort you, you shoved it off and sobbed harder. it... was heartbreaking. tears are welling up just thinking about it.

it's the right decision but it feels so fucking hard. i already feel freer, lighter, more like myself, but it feels so hard.

we were who we needed when we were 19. we need different things now.

you sobbed and told me you still thought i would make a great mom. and truly, sincerely, i think you would make a great dad. i don't know why but that broke me. kissing you for the last time, that broke me. it is really sad to think that our chapter is over.

We meet at the same bar as last time, except this time, we're alone.

I order a cocktail and you order a beer, and conversation flows, about one thing or another, but the real conversation between us is in our eyes, our touch, our body language. I'm wearing what you like, down to my underwear, because despite never having seen it, we've spoken enough about what we're into. You've grown out your stubble and it's scruffy, a little ragged but incredibly attractive. Everything about today has been calculated in my mind. Over and over, I've pictured it. It's the only way I've been able to survive this long.

I bite my straw, looking up at you past my glasses, and innocently rub the top of my foot along your calf. You stutter mid-sentence and it makes me feel powerful. You have no idea what's coming.

---

We stop at a bakery and you're standing directly behind me-- pressing into me? I can't be sure if you're doing it on purpose but I arch my back, ever so slightly, until my ass grinds up against you and you press into me harder. It's on purpose. I can feel you stiffen under your pants and we linger in front of the croissants, pretending to analyze each and every one. I lean over at the waist to check out the selection on the bottom shelf and I think I hear you groan. It makes me smile.

I end up just getting a latte. I add a bit of sugar and use my finger to stir my drink. I offer my finger to you, half-jokingly, but you grab my hand by the wrist, lock eyes with me and suck on my index, slowly. I think I might melt into a puddle and die right then and there. I feel my knees give out a bit and my jaw slackens, and you suck on it once more for good measure.

---

I lead you back to my Airbnb and I'm nervous. I think you are too. We have been thinking about this moment for years and it's hard not to have expectations. I don't want to disappoint you.

I decide to bite the bullet. I press the "6" on the elevator panel and hold the "door close" button. It seems to take an eternity. The doors begin to shut when I turn around to face you, grab your jacket and pull you against me. I reach my arms around your neck and for the first time, I feel my body press against yours as we kiss. Your lips feel foreign to me, but so, so good, like a foreign I want to get to know. I can't help but moan as your hands slide around my waist, up my sides, pulling me in towards you. There's a sense of urgency to your touch. We've been waiting so long. My fingers tangle in your ha--

*ding*

We freeze and open our eyes, chuckle and take a step back. Am I slightly out of breath? Jesus. I grab you by the hand and lead you out of the elevator, disoriented. Was the apartment to the left or right? You help me orient myself and i lead us to the right door, fumbling with the keys for an embarrassing amount of time before I finally find the right one, try it, and hear the lock click.

"After you," I smile, and you walk through the doorway. This feels like a dream. I follow suit, closing the door and locking it behind me. I'm about to turn around when I feel your hands-- one on my hips, pulling them towards you, and one between my legs. Fuuuck. I moan and melt into the door, my forearms resting on it for support, and arch my back for you. Your fingers glide across my clit and I shiver. You can feel how soaked I am through my jeans. I'm not surprised. This foreplay has lasted years. I grind myself onto your hand as you kiss my neck, and your breath sends shivers down my spine. I'm starting to get loud and I don't care anymore. Anybody outside the door will be able to hear what a good time I'm having.

You unbutton my pants and I rush to peel them off, nearly tripping over myself, and you steady me, holding my forearm, smiling. I start to roll down my underwear (purple lace, one of your favourites) and you stop me. I frown, "Is everything okay?"

"What's the rush? We've been waiting this long, what's a little longer...?"

2020 goal setting

it feels the same as every year

i want to be more mindful

i want to be more physically fit

i want to listen to myself more and judge myself less

u ever just get in a mood where you look up people from your past and can’t stop looking at all their profiles

friends of friends of friends

exes of exes of exes

it’s times like these where i really understand why the suicide rate for 2slgbtqia people is so much higher than the general population

i feel so fucking unsupported by my family, by my oldest friends, who try in earnest to understand and be open minded, who are limited and have me explain things to them that are essential to me as a human being