There are a lot of things I’d like to say to you.
Tonight, my mind is a crossword puzzle. My thoughts evaporate before the words are given a chance to condense. I might as well quit with the pretense and admit that perhaps they decided to visit other wordsmiths this time. Still, my mind is restless and I cannot comprehend why I am feeling so tense.
But you must know, these things do not matter much to me. It has always been about you. So stay right here.
Do not waste your time on longing; focus on loving instead.
I knew you were someone worth keeping when I discovered our common love for compartments. Plastic containers, desk organizers and multiple coin banks. Little did we know how much compartmentalization we had to do. There were several versions of me—I was a different person to my family, friends, and acquaintances.
Then there was you.
Somehow I knew my life can never be a stir-fry dish. I had everything assigned to their specific corners and spaces so this was okay with me. But you see, I ran out of mason jars to store the dragonflies in. I swear I tried to keep them with me. You saw me clench my fists, didn’t you? That was an attempt to stop things from getting out of hand. This is something you need to understand.
Tonight, I’m a messed-up casserole of a neophyte housewife who’s trying to find the list of delivery numbers of her lover’s favorite fastfood places. Muttering,”Oh, please, Pizzahut, do not fail me. Please, please, please,” while trying to salvage what was left of the Happy Anniversary dish. The potatoes are overcooked. There is too much salt. The meat is raw in the middle. She is young and anxious with frazzled nerves and an aching head, hoping to be a success even at the littlest of things.
But you already know these things, don’t you? I guess what I’ve been trying to tell you is that I’m yours if you’ll have me. A fraction brazen, a tad too neurotic and a bit terrified. Still wide-eyed due to part-cynicism and half-disbelief, with the deliberate attempt to stay focused. I’m yours, I’m yours, if you’ll have me, I’m yours.
Oh, boy. Oh, boy. I should have known this was coming.
So, you read the Bible? If you think my gay pals are immoral, then please give me some assurance that you haven’t done any of the following:
What? You have? YOU IMMORAL PERSON, YOU DESERVE DEATH. OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!
Just kidding. :)
To end this, I assume you have taken at least one Literature class and talked about literary context? If so, do not forget the historical context of the book you are reading. To the ancient Hebrews, an “abomination” was not something that is decreed as something “bad” by God; it was synonymous to illegal, not immoral.
Forgo your anonymity and when I get home, I might be able to give you some references.
To C,
I am radiant against you. I am radiant for you. Above all things between us, remember that.
You are like the sun. It’s as if I have stared at you for far too long, my dear, that when I close my eyes, all I see is you.
“I don’t want to mess up with my life any further. Love is a bloodbath.”
“No, don’t get it all mixed up. Love isn’t a bloodbath and it never will be. It is the lack of love that makes everything else look like a war zone. So go ahead, take a chance. Love.”
