Meminisse

I'm only going to hold your hand lightly, plant kisses on your forehead when you're distracted, give you the gifts you ask for and some of the ones you don't. I'm gonna fuck up noticing when you lean away, or shy away from a certain touch. I'm gonna lean myself into you when we're sitting together.

I'm gonna forget you exist. You might see glimpses of me fixated on the twinklings on the other side, you might see me walking among the momentary streams. you might see me tracing the curves of the hills we live on, you might see me watching the way a squirrel bounces along them. i won't see you;

then you'll turn away, and find someone tugging on your hand to show you something. you'll be dragged back through those places, and more, with my voice accompanying the whole way. In my sketchbook, a squirrel's arched body, its tail's faint halo drawn in striking detail; the hills and the far-off lights assembled carefully to point towards a day's moon. The springly sunshower, here among the greyed trees. And finally, here and there some giggling, until I look at you, and there's a kiss.

I'm not going to say I love you. I don't love you. I've tried loving before; but I can't sit still long enough. I can't really focus on another person like I'm expected, not for long periods. I have to see the hills. I have to disappear into places no one will find me. I can't afford to feel guilty while doing it.

So hopefully, this is a substitute for love you can be okay with. The one that calls you "friend" and "dear" affectionately, that appears every once in awhile, distantly, to show you what I'm up to. I'm not always going to be what you want, or what you need. But even so, even I need to be kissed and held sometimes.