May 7

Sometimes you just gotta write about it. Sometimes that's a poem, or an essay, or a story where you weave your problems into the characters, and hope they can find a way out. Sometimes it's a letter, that you don't write a "dear ___" or a "sincerely, ___" on, because you have no intention of ever sending it. If you're writing a letter to no one, it's because someone needs to hear, and that someone might be a different part of yourself.

Maybe when we write, we're giving lines to the one character in our story we can control, so that maybe they can find a way out.

April 25

Last night I watched
As the words tumbled down
From your hesitant lips
Oh, what a sound

They danced and they dropped
Not to the floor
But to my ready ears
A sound for the sore

They whispered
Quietly
Moving things
Inside of me

g-f#-e-d-b-b
g-f#-e-b
g-f#-e-d-b-b
g-f#-e-d

fifths on c, c+b, a, g

g-g-a-b-a-g-e-e
g-g-a-b-g-d+g
g-g-a-b-a-g-e-e
g-a-b-d

fifths on c, c+b, a, g

March 28

It's been a while since we've kissed. Not that we haven't been together and in a situation where we could, but just that it hasn't been there. Is that on me? I sure hope not. Is it on her? I think it might be. But if it's something she's feeling, why does she feel it? Is it a lack of affection? Is it a constant bad mood? Have I done something she won't tell me? Lord knows I mess up a time or ten but she's usually quick enough to point it out. Why girls like to hold something against boys without telling them is beyond me. It isn't productive for the relationship at all. All it does is create inner pain and resentment for her, and oblivious bliss for him, which isn't helpful. Bitches, man.

Things are looking up, though. I hope.

March 11, 10:2

I remember the first time she told me she loved me. It was over the phone. She was reading me a letter she wrote to me. I didn't say I loved her back because I didn't know if I did. She told me later my silent reply hurt her. If I was there with her in person, I'd have kissed her, or hugged her, or held her hand or made eye contact with her or something. But telephones are for talking, and I didn't know what to say.

So I did my best to console her, which isn't easy for someone who can't find any decent word to say and has to let her hang up on me in silence. I'd have consoled her with a hug, or a kiss, or a hand wrapped around hers, but she was not there. She was in her house, and I was in mine. And that was painful for me to hear.

February 21

"...how does that work?"

"I have no idea, Sven."

pause

"how have you been lately?"

pause

"have you ever felt like something is... just... wrong when you're not with her?"

"what do you mean?"

"I just... when we're apart I don't feel... whole. or complete or, myself."

February 11

I hate not being able to help her. I hate when she hides things, and when things that she shouldn't worry about bother her. I love how much she cares for people, but I hate how little she can let go of.

Love and hate are strong words,

but I'm getting closer to loving her every day.

February 4

from a lover


To hold you in my arms is to wake to the sun,
for though it happens time and time again,
the delight reminds me of something supernatural,
something only He could bring to us.

To see you is to see the moon,
blazing white in the indigo sky,
a natural wonder adored by many,
experienced by few.


to a lover