By Just L |
Date: 2010 Dec 28
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Attention: Your touch is the only demand I have ever made on you. I have graced you and forgiven you everything else. It is what feeds me, makes me fierce in the world, soothes me in the quiet places I call home. The woman I am brilliant, sexxxy, kind is withering without it...I only feel sadness, not love or loved. Certainly not adored, no matter how many texts you send me that tell me so. But you cannot see that, because you do not see me at all. You tell me Despite the absence and time, you are what grounds me and provides me solace in my darkness. However sweet, this sounds like a cop out for responsible, or at the least reciprocal, action. I am not hard-hearted nor naïve to the wounds of life and years and experiences which fall short of our expectations. Still, love looks like something, and right now, this love looks like a mess. I think Id rather be your friend. Because being your love, what is dependable and solid in your life, counts for nothing. And, all I demanded was your touch. |
Written December 28, 2010
(Her threats cannot loom that large. The only thing she is capable of destroying is herself.)
Re-posted January 2011, as it is an authentic fragment from my journal. January 1, 2011, "the re-upping" as we came to call it. Still, this entry is an incredible foreshadowing of what was to come only days later, NYE 2011-- when everything changed for better and for worse.