You're going to discover that conversations are best at 4 a.m., the heavier the eye lids, the sincerer the words.

While all else is up kept, the words, the room, the writing, she keeps her hair, her bed, her head, messy. Somethings are better left untidy; life included.

Please, forgive me: my mind wanders.

“If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that it is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head we’re taken off, I know that it is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way?”

—   Emily Dickinson


Just as the autumn leaves crisped and slowly fell, I fell for you. All over again.

“What see’st thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?”

—   Prospero, The Tempest
Dinner on Chuckanut Drive. 

“You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest and most beautiful person I have ever known-
and even that is an understatement.”

—   F. Scott Fitzgerald

We are more than what we create.

“What makes me love you despite the reservations?”

The Void.

There is a void which I have yet to fill. I wish I could accomplish this completion solely by myself, to be self sufficient. But, I can’t.

I need you to help with the patching. And, at this point, I don’t even know who you are. This seems completely obscene to me as well, no need for you to be alarmed by the oddity of the situation. My mind tries to stray away from the idea that you, some elusive unspecified person, can have such a stronghold on my reality. I am dependant on someone, who has yet to come into existence to me, to fill a void which has only just come up to the surface. You are nothing, yet everything, a paradoxical entity that once seen can never be unseen.  This awareness has created the growing buds of a personally internal hell.  

At times this void seems like a never ending abyss. There is so much unknown, so much left uncharted. It seems I have lost control; I cannot explore its depths on my own. Each day it grows, it takes in more and more substance. Occasionally, something comes along that can momentarily stunt its growth, but it will remain unfilled until the beast’s true desires are met.

You run my mind. The void transcends my heart, even my thoughts. I am literally incomplete without you here. I don’t know when or how, but someday you’ll appear. And I hope it’s soon. The drafty corridors of my existence are growing cold without your company.