I wish I understood you. I wish I had the capacity and the skills to hear what you are saying and help you say it and to ask the right questions and to say the right things. If only I’d known what you wanted to hear, I would say it. I wish you felt understood. I wish you felt a connection. I wish I could make you feel at home. 

Now I’m giving you space. I’m trying not to freak out. I will try real hard to not create drama. I try to calm myself down and not think about the distance between us. Sometimes the idea of our love ever realising seems surreal. Sometimes I think that it’s all in my head. Let’s do shrooms together.

I want to understand you. I want to listen. I want you to feel safe enough to talk. How do I do that? How could I make you feel safe? 
I want to make you feel accepted exactly as you are. 

This is how I want to be with you:

1. honest

No name dropping, trying to look cool/clever/zen. Say strictly the truth. Strictly. 

2. safe

I need to react to things you say with acceptance. It’s ok to be who you are. 

3. attentive

Keep to the topic you raised. Ask questions you asked. Ask back. Keep exploring whatever you came up with. 

4. authentic

Be really, really honest. 


I want to talk to you. I want to send you music. Every second article is something I would want to share with you. I refrain. I’m trying to give you space. 

I’m so scared that I’m going to fuck this up. I’m so scared that I already did. I’m pushing you away with my fakeness, all because I want to be your perfect match, I want to grow into whomever you want me to be. Please, have mercy. 
Why did you open these deep, terrible wounds? Heal me with your touch.  

Darling. If only you knew how I feel about you, you’d be running away from me in no time. I’m barely holding it together. You are holding me away and I don’t know why. What do you want? Do you want me? Do you want my friendship? Don’t you want my body too? I’m desperate. I know I am. Because right now you are the only one I can imagine making love to. And yes, I do want it all. I’m so sorry. 

I’m really scared. I yearn for the safety of your arms so, so badly. Please let me have some rest, let me put my head on your breast and feel your gentle strokes. I want this so badly, that I fear I’m never going to have it. Sweetheart, please have mercy on me. 

Ok, this is getting unbearable. I need to calm down. 

You don’t want to be alone with me. Why? If you knew how much it hurts…

To make love. That is all there is. Fear is sometimes replaced by hunger. And I am utterly consumed by it. Nothing’s left, but the hunger. Feed me. 
