Sometimes I just need to know that someone is listening; really hearing what I have to say and giving me something to listen to right back.  I love the emotional tug of deep conversation; of sharing ideas and beautiful things; story telling and saying look,  *I found this and it filled my atoms with electric and I want you to feel that too*. 

**I want you to feel it too**.

Over the last year I built a world for us; for me and the person who has interested me  most in the last 18 months.  Time did that funny thing where it feels like yesterday but yesterday was actually February and so much has happened in between.  I told him I loved him but couldn't find the words to describe what I really meant so *I love you* travelled 3000 miles and became distorted.  He told me he loved me back and I heard 7am warmth and coffee brewing; a fantasy life of late night rooftop dissection of stars. I let the imperfect translation of three small words lead the way, and away it went,  taking off with legs of its own. 
I thought endlessly of planes and ways to mitigate the distance and at some point I stopped actually listening to him and he stopped actually talking.  When I finally noticed the silence he was all but gone.  

&gt;I'm stuck on this: *I felt like I was drowning constantly.  I felt like you were the only one that could save me.  And I felt like you let me drown* I'm stuck because, even though I know it's not why you tried, it sounds like it's a part of it. A last straw or a impetus of some sort. And I want to help and be there and support you getting better, but... I don't know what to do with that, because I can't "save" you and in a way that's set up to fail and to lead to disappointment. And I feel like because of the love that's sort of wrapped up in this whole thing, **I feel like I'll disappoint you in other ways too**. So, I don't know. I don't know how to shape this into a new thing that's like before, because I think I'll need time or **a reason to believe that you aren't looking for me to save you**.




But I swear I'm  not looking to be saved.  I  swear I'm not in love.  I swear I'm not any of those things that frighten and push people away.  I just want to talk.  

I just want to talk.  

I know I shouldn't post things like this is public spaces.  It's diary fodder and best left in notebooks and on scraps of paper round the house.  These are the words for secrets, whispered under duvets and poured out with wine. Words that are seeds,  thrown out across the earth between us and left to grow wild.  These are words for letters,  but I can't send those any more.