I don’t love like I used to.
I have this terrible feeling in my heart.
Rather, it is a lack of feeling.
Or rather, it is a numbness, the unbearable absence of all things.
Like all this empty in my chest has turned it still and quiet. Like it crawled out to my lungs and made them stop breathing. Like it took over my head and made it grow heavy, turned rock-hard and aching. Like it reached out to my limbs and my hands and my fingers and made them go numb.
Right now, I am kissing you and right now I am somewhere else.
Right now, my eyes are on yours but they’re looking right through you.
Right now our bodies are intertwined and already I am miles away, and I have gone limp.
Already I am touching the stars and kissing them instead.
Already I am walking on sand and the waves have caught up to my feet.
Already I am thinking of drowning.
I can’t be what you want.
You want a love that is all devouring, drowning in each other.
You want a love you could get lost in, one you could step into and find yourself waist-deep in all its soft and wanting.
You want a love that is sporadic, unplanned, and ever changing.
You want this entity, but you’re wrong.
You don’t need much, just someone to fall back on.
And you deserve that. You deserve the world.
You deserve a love that swallows you whole, that wraps itself around you, sinks into your bones, and supports you at your lowest.
You deserve a love that is present and real.
You deserve a love that is everything but all this empty.
– excerpt from a book I’ll never write