relationships – Page 5

Dymo

“i’d say… we’re talking” you answer.
the answer to my endless amount of loving probes
bubbling over questions
and i feel like i cornered you
but i also feel victorious
& wonder if somehow i’m gonna pay for this error later.

you should know,
in case i’ve permanently killed this with my big
inquiring
label demanding
mouth

i absolutely adore you.

i’ve never thought so highly of a person i’m interested in… ever.

because: i’ve never pursued anyone before.
i’ve never taken the time to grow to appreciate someone,
from a distance.
this is not a lip-locked, nose-touching-nose,
“i like your freckles” kind of adore

you know the kind where you’re so caught up
in being caught up
that you don’t see the details

all those glaringly bright, red, details.

this is me adoring you
from seeing you as a friend
a coworker
a son
& falling slowly each & every time
you carefully peel a layer away.
it’s painfully slow
excruciatingly hard
but it’s all in the details.

i want you to know,
i only pushed,
because i don’t want to lose you
being in limbo sometimes makes me feel like im drowning
so every so often, i need confirmation
affirmation
a buoy in the distance that signals land is near,
& a lifeline to hang onto.

just know that,
you are important to me.

chicken or egg?

love thrives where love is rooted in commitment

what came first,
commitment? or trust?

how do i commit to something
that may or may not be real?

how do you trust someone
who you’re not sure can commit to you?

we’re both standing at the airplane door
shivering in anticipation
parachutes neatly folded in our packs
yelling to be heard above the roar of the engine,
urging the other:
“jump first! im right behind you!”

am i the fool for leaping first?

a letter to my brother

dear big brother,

so this is an unorganized ramble.. sans alcohol so.. i don’t have a good excuse for its state.

i’ve reread your letter over & over again
on days im unsure of the person i’m left with post-breakup
& on days i just want the satisfaction of seeing him called “Mr. Potatohead” on the internet.

there are some things ive learned about myself
given some time & space from it all
& i figure,
like a good patient reporting back to their therapist
asking for clearance to return to society,
i should write this to let you know.

i’ve come to realize i have more squishy bags than i thought
things that im willing to bend
with no resentment
things i dont see as a sacrifice
for the right person.
things that i used to consider non-negotiables like:
getting on a roller coaster
being called “baby” or “babe”
committing to temporary long distance
these are things that if i see myself long-term with someone,
a person who is throwing his squishy stuff into the space as well
& doesn’t mind the chaos of the bending & mushing of personals
id be happy to adjust for.
they’re equal sacrifices.

& my hard surfaces have only become more pronounced
post-breakup with Mr. Potatohead
things that were mislabeled
mistaken
to be belongings that weren’t near & dear to my heart
so they were shoved into the attic with no sensitivity
no gentleness
to collect dust & become forgotten items for another time.
things like:
my introverted tendencies
my desire to have a marriage possibly without kids in the picture
my faith
my need for plans/schedules/consistency
my family
my love language of acts of service.

maybe its my fault for misrepresenting the value of these things.
maybe i did in fact deceive him,
playing it off as easy-going, & out-going
doesn’t everyone put their best foot forward when they get to know someone?

& maybe it’s my fault for letting my values be treated so insignificantly

but i also dont think a good person
a truly good person,
someone who loves you
& wants to build a life with you,
would bulldoze you like that.

it plays out in my head like this:
early on he realized there’s finite space available,
after quickly assessing the ratio & significance of his stuff vs mine
[because engineers are good at calculating stuff like that]
without hesitation, he slipped on his noise-canceling headphones
& went to town with a sledgehammer on my luggage
unable to hear the shattering, of all that makes me– me.

so counselor,
i have to object to your closing remarks.
because there was no shattering of tiny unfulfilling cups,
or breaking of roller-boards on my part.
i never partook in the crime myself.
maybe for lack of strength.
maybe for grace & better up-bringing — who knows.

i can say i am grateful though
for the perspective
for the time to account for all my belongings again
for the thrill of the possibility
of finding someone who stops & points at my hard-cased Travelpro,
& simply smiles & says, “hey! i have one just like that. Where’d you get it from?”
& i now have the capacity to take the time to tell them.

love you.

-your lil sis

dusk at disney

we sit there, having finished our meal
me pressed to your side, people watching
we quietly observe the tired families who pass us
pushing on to make their time
their money
well spent.
your arm is draped over my shoulder, casually.
im peaceful. im happy.
“are you gonna be devastated when i leave?” he asks,
i pause, holding my breath, pressing my lips hard together to keep from blurting out my truth.
“im really worried about you that’s why…” he says, filling the silence i created, as he leans in to kiss the side of my head.
“i dunnoooo… i mean, what do you think? .. are you going to be? devastated i mean?” i shift away from him so i can turn to see his face.
“yeah, i’ll be a lil’ devastated” he shrugs.
“i just.. i dunno. i don’t do well with change– well no one does i guess. but i’m a creature of habit. i like plans. this will just shift… things. im afraid of the unknown.”
“yeah i know”
“i mean… i could fly mostly Pheonix. i like it. it’s good credit.. and i could visit. but is that what you’d want?”
“yeah of course!”
“but i don’t want you to feel obligated to see me, just because i’m flying there. i don’t want to be an obligation.”
“no. you won’t be.. but you have to understand, studying is studying. that’s a non-negotiable. after those first 9 months of school, i’ll have more flexibility”
“i get that…” i nod slowly, reassuring him of my being on the same page, “yeah. i get it.” i reaffirm, giving a final, concise nod, as if my chin was a firm handshake agreeing to these terms.
i lean back into him as we resume our people watching, letting our words sink in
” i just need you to know though..” i begin, looking down at my lap, “this,” i draw a circle widely with my hand in the space before me, “whatever this is… it’s important to me… you know?” i turn to face him again, to make sure he understands.
my eyes flit acros
the weight.
the power he holds.
his eyes shrink to mischievous slits, “oh? this isnt just fun for you?” he smirks.
i nervously laugh, “no. you know it isn’t. not for me. for you?”
he stops smiling, “no. its not.”
“ok. good.” i nod.

its not ground breaking
but its a start.

actions speak louder

im told talk is cheap,
& maybe im asking way too many questions
filling up the space with them
suffocating you with them.

if i just sit quietly
& feel you brushing my hair back from my forehead for the thousandth time today
& realize im the only girl in this room
the girl you’ve chosen to share this sacred space with
i’d have my answers.

so eyes,
dont give it away.
dont let them tumble out
& ruin the moment.
because there’s only so much room here,
& i dont want to fill that space with tough questions.
id much rather fill it with you
resting peacefully next to me.

closed til spring

lock me up in a room
you bring the guac & sardines
i’ll provide the netflix & popcorn
i want to hole up for winter
secluded until spring
disappear from the inquisitive looks
& probing texts
so i can figure this out.

give me your time
your most bare & honest self
i promise i wont put on a spot of makeup
if you promise to never stop singing in the shower
so i can figure you out.

show me your crazy
narrate your adventures
run your fingers along my scars
& ask me how i got them
let me burrow my face into your chest
and press my body along your side
for as long as it takes
so i can figure us out.

wear me out
wear me down
fast forward through the excitement
& the thrill
i want it all at once
so i can know
so you can know
if the first step is worth it.

post-it

consider this:
would you prefer a man who readily misses you,
says it, no-holds-barred,
but may not know the weight of it?

or..

a man who measures out his thoughts,
his words,
& the implications it may have on your world,
& although he may not mean it [yet..]
will say it because he knows the weight it carries to you?
because your world shifts slightly when he says it
it means more.. by meaning less.. if that’s even possible.

a man who says it to make you happy.
because even if it doesnt come naturally to him,
its what he’ll do. for you.

a few months from now,
this entire note may read as a red flag
disguised as hope.
we’ll just have to wait..
will the other shoe ever drop?
how long will you wait to see?

the original forgotten list

“Darwin”

December 25, 2008 (Xanga)

im picky about the word used to describe my pickiness.
my selective nature is.. well natural.

but i think when it comes to matters of the heart,
i have a right to be.

i need someone, who i can look up to.
someone who i know, is capable of helping me with homework,
or to change a tire,
or something where i find that i can learn from them what i wouldn’t feel comfortable/am incapable of doing on my own.

& what they do exceed in, im not threatened by it.
no abundance of testosterone, or being overly proud of their talent at writing…
something that complements my own attributes.
i havent found out whether this means i need to find an opposite, or a match…

i like to laugh.
i like knowing, this sound, this syncopation of air & tummy reflexes… isnt forced.
& isnt because i feel guilty for not finding it truly hilarious — but because it just is.
no mercy giggles here.

i need to be able to talk to you.
hold a conversation, & you’ll hold my attention.
i dont talk much, & i can guarantee you there will be dead air.
but when i do speak.. its meant to spark contemplation/intriguing answers.
i want to find myself craving a question just so i can wrestle with ideas with you
or exchange stories that feel well kept & encoded in our exclusiveness.

i want the best shade of you.
the you, with the highest potential, optimized & in action.
the truest, most clarified reflection of you personified is the person i want to be with.
& if i bring that side of you out.. & you can do the same for me.. its a keeper.

i want someone who takes control.. & has self-control.
yeah, so i get away with murder. or i wind up in compromising situations over & over again.. i want you to accept me, but not necessarily all of my choices.
if i fuck up, i want to be called out on it.
i want to become better, because you need me to never do it again.
whats the fun in knowing i can do no wrong?
… & what’s the harm in telling me ive done wrong?
self-control in that respecting the lines that are drawn is important to me.
controlling your temper, your mouth, your hands, & your mind.

i love consistency.
i like the type of person who is there, on time, & doesnt falter.
i only expect what stakes you set,
& the offer on the table is signed with your mark.

if when you see my worst — because its bound to happen
dont judge me.
what i say in my fractured state of mind,
& reckless moments shouldnt be held/used against me.
if im even willing to share those fears & demons
… i dont want t hear them repeated. ever.

this is all i know i need.
all those periods of searching,
& asking why at some point in time someone didnt fit my agenda..
boils down to this.
what i couldnt sum up in detail
or narrate why a nice boy couldnt become nicely ever after.
& nice boys dont always finish last.
chances are, they just gave in to one or two of my vices…
& i couldnt bear to make more of what it already was.

Portion Control

i dont live in moderation
hell i dont eat in moderation.
i dont just have cake & eat it too
i steal bites out of cupcakes in one hand,
& potato chips in another.
because i cant decide between salty or sweet
& life is just better being able to indulge in both tastebud sensations

being around you
im learning
to take smaller bites
& savor the sweetness
before reaching for a second helping

i dont live in the grey
but with you
im learning
that there are so many distinct variations
that get you from black to white

i dont know restraint
but im learning to not push
to not plunge
because one of us will eventually break
& when that happens
there will be no more mystery in grey corners
& allure of forbidden chocolate
we’ll have crossed the line
& there will only be black, white,
& sticky guilty fingers left.

63360

we take an inch
& my head spins for miles
the playful arm lock to keep me laying in bed
the running your fingertips up and down the curve of my hips
you want miles,
[at least i think you do]
but we only take an inch.
bite-size
miniature
itty-bitty pieces
so that the guilt is tolerable.
[at least for me]
but my head is running marathons
giant strides
with a steady endurance
to places that make me question every quip
every smart ass remark
every quick “night” without the grand gesture
every day that creeps by for me to check off to know if asking if you miss me is appropriate

my appetite is satiated with the inch
but my head never is.