The deficiency, I want to be CLEAR with someone, have a true connection, but it is so difficult to condition yourself to be totally honest. There’s always the pretense: pride, shame, jealousy, love, hate… etc. I want to find one person who wants the veracity of this squalid existence. Someone who would rather feel the sting of truth than the comfort of lies. I don’t want companionship based on co-dependence. I want a mutual love, a mutual enjoyment of each person. I want somebody with the morals of a christian while concurrently having the morals of a satanist. That is, I want someone who truly has a strong set of morals and ethics but knows that not everyone deserves them in the same dose. Someone who is not frivolous or liberal with their compassion and love. Someone who has a beautiful, caring heart, but knows it must not be over-used for fear of it losing its true meaning and power. Intelligent forgiveness, selective mercy.
I was trying too hard I think, that night on the bathroom floor, in that large and unfamiliar house. Perhaps that house served as a perfect metaphor for both of our lives, and certainly our situation. It surely did for me. I devoured all of our small moments alone, the ones between all the other moments. The buttons, the clove, the vomit. Those exchanges filled me with so much hope, so much passion. So much, all at once, into a long dormant man. You somehow made my entire body ache. You stirred me up and I felt dizzy. I never feel that. But you did it, absolutely destroyed every trick in my book. When I was with you I felt new and fresh, I felt revived, jostled from a prolonged coma. And still, the very potency that you attracted me with also pushed me away in equal measure. It scared me. It smacked me in the face and profoundly confused me. You completely engulfed my thoughts for those moments, and I felt a particular sense of comfort in the relinquishment of control, of submission.
I’m about to stop (sigh of relief). More silence, more secrecy could possibly prolong the inevitable let-down I was sure we’d find in each other. But we could drag out the beginning, which in my opinion, is always the best part. However, the middle has been known to be quite enjoyable as well. But who can ever really tell? And what fun would it be even if you could? Most of this has been rather contradictory. And for some strange, unexplainable reason I now feel as though I’ve hurt all of you. And I’m instantly consumed with a dull, throbbing guilt.
I hope things have their beginning. I hope we…
