august OnDisplay collaboration
i want to scream that i love you.
i want to pace the room and wring my hands and laugh and cry and scream
that i love you! i love you! i love your hair and your eyes and your
hands and the way you say my name. i love the way you move, the lines
of your body, the whisper of air as you pass by.
i love you to the point of madness. past the point of madness and
deeply into the realms of insanity. i love you to the point that i
would give up everything just to taste your so-sweet lips, feel your
wonderful hands.
i love your eyes when you look at me. i love your mouth when it forms
the words i long to hear. i love your ears that beg to be licked and
your skin that whispers to be caressed. i love the way you sit, an open
invitation to be joined. i love the way you lie down, so gorgeous, so
gorgeous...
i want to see your hair glint in the dim light of a darkened room as we
lay together in a soft, warm bed. i want to feel your fingers move so
tentatively across my skin, shy and not shy. i want to hear you sigh in
pleasure as i brush my lips so feather-soft across your throat and over
your constantly tempting collar bone.
i want to sit in Espresso drinking a 3.95 double latte with you, talking
until it's ten minutes after i have to be home. i want to curl up in
the corner of the couch at your house, all the way on the other end of
the couch, and have you scoot over so slowly, so shyly, and put your arm
around me. i want to go to a movie and fidget for twenty full minutes
without touching, and then have our fingers gently brush and then slowly
engulf each other.
i want to scream that i love you.
and having screamed that out, i would sit cross-legged in front of my
mirror all alone in my room. i would pull my hair back in a ponytail
and then pull it out again and toy with the elastic and twine my hair
around my fingers... i would cup my chin in the palm of my hand and
stare for a while at myself, trying to be you, trying to see what you
might see.
i would slowly, so slowly, come to the conclusion that it will never
work. i will cite as evidence the seeming lack of interest on your part
and the "fact" that i am simply not worthy. i will start to hurt myself
with tiny barbs of insult, waiting with gasping, painful breaths for you
to call. and when you call, if you do, you will not say what i want you
to say. and if you do not call, i will assume that it is because of me
and only me.
i would sit there, in my room, having expressed in as many words as can
fit in an emotion, for hours. i would eventually start talking to the
mirror, as i often do, and it would end on one of two notes - either i
would hate myself, insult myself, and hurt myself. or i would "affirm"
myself, say that you don't matter and aren't really that great,
say that it doesn't matter whether or not you call and i am totally
self-dependent (which is totally seperate from independent)
i regret that i am this way.
i regret that i do not have the dignity, the self-possessiveness, the
self-respect and the maturity to handle myself better. i regret that i
am not a woman, no matter what my legal identification says.
i regret that it doesn't even matter who you are, because this is
the way that i am.
i regret that.
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