Stream of consciousness.

I found you.
Not
the other way
around.
I wonder if you know that.
I wonder if I let you know,
or if I was more comfortable
com-FORT-able. Fortified.
letting you believe that you found me, first.
I want to get to know you.
Four years after finding you, I want to get to know you.
More importantly
I want to let you know me.
Well, it might be too late now.
Too late for us to have a shot
Too late for me to have a childhood
Rather than need anyone else, I threw both away. I sold them to buy self-sufficiency.
Your shot.
My youth.
For a penny each, tossed into the Nantucket sound.
One for a wish, and one to bring you back.
Could a little wish like that bring you back to me?
If you came back, if you actually made the effort and came to see me…
(for the first time in two years)
Then would I let you get to know me? Would I cry at you like I do or would I let you understand really what makes me so sad. Would I tell you that I’m scared of time. Of how it moves forward, and of how it moves me away from home, from the home I wanted to build with you? Of how my path has changed. Of making the wrong choice, the wrong career, the wrong way. Becoming the wrong person. Would I tell you that, no matter how many times you tell me otherwise, I’m still too scared that you love her more, that she’s who you belong with? That I’m selfish for keeping you from her? I’m scared that you, the only man who ever loved me, will wake up one day and realize you didn’t love me after all. What would I be worth to myself then. I wish it weren’t so, but it is. I wouldn’t see myself the same way. Someone loved me once, that’s comfort. That’s validation. So I try and realize I didn’t love you, just in case, so that it won’t hurt as much…but obviously I can’t. In fact, I still love you. I wonder, though, if you understand my doubts. I worry that you are just too scared and lacking in self-esteem and motivation to actually put yourself out there. That I am a safety net for you. You are more than that to me. Fuck, there was a time that all I wanted in life was to have your children and live in the mountains with you. Have dogs and make home movies of our babies crawling on blankets in the lawn, the endless mountains behind them like guardians, shelter. But still you won’t let me any closer than I let you. You are different with our other friends than you are with me. I know this now. They’ve told me you change when I’m around. You behave better. You aren’t as dark. But you know, I sense the darkness. I sense the way you are with everyone else, and, if anything, I crave it. Don’t you know by now that I will love you always. Don’t you think that it is time to relax? I will if you will.

I will if you will.