If I were honest with you, I’d tell you that I have a passion for your words and your attention, they garner mine and I want to give them back to you. I want to touch you to make them more real; anticipate the quickening. I want to look in your kindred eyes.
But you are so far away. Even within distance, out of reach.
And I don’t know how drunk you are in your robe on your leather couch with your eyes lit by email, your pocket buzzed with texts, as you tell me all the lovely things. I don’t know if you’re drunk all the time. I have a constant drunk wanting of you here that I can’t seem to sober from. Especially when sober.
Yesterday I told you not to contact me again.
I can’t stand the hurt of wanting you and not being able to see you, the crush of not being able to capitalize on the attraction that magnetized instantly between us. I’ve wanted you again for months now. You won’t make it work. I can’t want you anymore. It’s a weight.
I cried in the shed around 4 o’clock hiding from the kids. Cried thinking there’s always something I’ll want to say to you, cried knowing I gotta stop. I have to get you off of my mind.
If I were younger I would’ve given you years to lord over my imagination.
Now here I am, my own eyes lit. Glad I didn’t tell you about this long dormant blog I got, babe. If I get the itch, if I’m thinking about you, if I wanna break the silence, which I don’t wanna do, but I do, I got an outlet.
I’ll just tell the whole world how I feel instead, yeah? Great idea. Maybe word will get round to you. Riiiiight.
I hope you’ll miss me like you proper well should. Thanks for all the smiles.
Sometimes when you know you just know,
P.S.- Remember that song you wrote about the girl that you could love a lifetime and her kiss? Remember I told you I wrote a response song, but I told you I didn’t wanna share it with you yet? Well, this is it: Stale Kiss.