Why can't we be those people. People who turn into magnets. I want your polarity.
Again, I wrote this last night but wasn't able to post it.
The night is ours -- it was always ours. On a bench, under a tree, under the stars. Under the stars. Walking hand in hand with you, not the way I wanted but with you is all that matters. You look at me like how you always look at me, and my heart isn't going a hundred miles an hour, though I kind of wish it was. I wish you'd do something to make me panic.
I should be glad to have you and I know that, because you could've left but you stayed and I should be happy I should have any part of you at all, even if it's not the one I want. But that's not the way humanity works. I wish I could just be content with what you give, but I want more, and it's so frustrating.
I am done with thinking about this; I know I will never be where I want. Because there are entire facets of your life I will never be a part of. And I am invasive, and uncomfortable, and difficult to deal with and I can get irritating. I understand.
But I won't stand out here waiting to be let in. I like standing out here. The stars are pretty and the trees and the grass is all dewy in the morning. I see all the sunrises when you're all warm in bed. The wind is cold and brutal and bracing; and sometimes I wish you were out here to brave it with me. But you aren't -- you have your walls. I have nothing.
That's okay.
I won't beg. I don't like begging for anything. But I will think endlessly, of everything we could've been if things were different. I wish you would just hand yourself over sometimes. You require so much of me.
day 24: outside
