A love story: from bits and pieces of my fragmented mind Two people meet. And big lofty feelings of all they ever wanted become tied to eachother in hand holds and swinging or maybe not and laying on beds and shaky knees. It happens. And glances across rooms and very firm feelings of maybe this is it and trying very hard to be the best and most enlightened version of yourself. And you sit and talk and things just scare you but you’re there. And then you knead over and youre at that next fold and your egos struggle. And they fight and battle and it’s not really romantic anymore but you remember that it’s worth fighting for even though you’re not really sure what youre fighting. Maybe letting them in maybe yourself. And you fight it until the bitter end over exits to take and sheets in the night and you slowly stop wondering what it’d be like with other people and you’re not sure how that makes you feel. And sometimes things are really just fucking sweet but most of the time it’s frustrating. And youre trying pretty hard to build these walls or maybe just let the walls that have been there stay. Maybe youre trying to curate the walls that have been there all along because theyre all you have. And you realize the only thing wrong with the other person is that theyre trying to break through them. And it hurts you because you don’t know what will be left when they come down. And you still can’t rest your head on their shoulder at night because you’re afraid your head weight is a little too heavy and they’ll eventually get sick of it and shrug it off once you finally are comfortable. So it’s best to just turn over and lay alone.
