my infinite word existence

My tragedy was that I loved words more than I loved the women who inspired me to write them. —The Words

[quasigenuine]

I am

warming up to the idea of letting you have me. But that is not what I want. That is not what I want for you. That is not what you should want for yourself. To have someone agree to be with you. It's beautiful and romantic to think that you've earn someone. That you've proven yourself. That's lovely, it is. There's no denying the beauty of having your heart earned instead of stolen. That's just semantics though. Those are just beautiful words. Earning and stealing and sweeping people off their feet. They're pretty ideas. Being the person that wins in the end is a pretty idea. Being the person that fought to the end is a pretty picture. But having to win someone is ugly. Having to prove yourself is ugly. Having to wait to be good enough, to be noticed, to be seen, to be given the opportunity to love someone--not even have them love you--that's ugly. And the person that makes you do all that, they're ugly. So although I am warming up to you. Although you have more than proved yourself to me. And although I could, if I tried. I do not want me for you. I want beauty for you, not ugliness. Even if I end up wanting you, I don't want you to want me. I do not want that for you.

[quasigenuine]

I hope you know there‘s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss you.

[quasigenuine]

dialectical:

[shout out to an old friend] 

i reserve all my double negatives for you. because you were,

never not confusing. never not elusive. never not frustrating. and yet i never felt like i didn’t get you. never felt like i didn’t have you. never wanted to never talk to you.

you were never any less than amazing to me. and i can't not say that. despite everything that has and hasn’t happened between us. your beautiful imperfection has never not shown through. and it’s not for lack of knowing you, that i know this to be true.

that every push away was backed by a desire to connect. that every feeling of comfort was matched with a threat of abandonment. that every eventual escape was a desperate act of survival. 

so i think of you in these ways. which exist together, though they may seem opposite. you are to me and will always be,

both confusing and relatable. wildly different and utterly familiar. frustratingly cold and intensely warm-hearted. enormously loving and debilitatingly scared.  all in and all out.

[quasigenuine]

stagnant:

If I’m not falling apart I’m standing still.

[quasigenuine]

unequivocal:

I always thought it was strange that when someone proposes and the answer is no the relationship ends. I always thought, "You still love each other don't you? Everything was okay before, why can't it just go back to that?" But now I realize, there's a certain discomfort in a relationship where one person loves the other differently. A certain discomfort that is unbearable once it's made undeniable. 

[quasigenuine]

ordinal:

Your first love never lasts. That's why they call it the first. 

[quasigenuine]

paramour:

I have learned that lovers will not always love. Friends will not always be friendly. And happiness will not always feel good. Takers will take. Givers don’t exist. And people will spout nonsense with a list of exceptions that could fill a book. Fact is never just fact, and the truth will never untangle itself from deception. But your eyes sparkle. The corners of your mouth curl in a way I can’t resist. And I will never have you. But you will never say those words.

[quasigenuine]

dendrochronology:

please allow me to explain,

you believe that love has no end. you believe in a connection, a circuit, a line that runs circular. energy that is conserved but changes shape. and i do not disagree. if you love someone, really love them, you love them forever. no matter what form that love is. 

i too believe that love is a connection. a circuit with no end, but also no beginning. that i can stick a pin into a moment but can’t quite say for sure when it is love starts. only say for sure that love never ends. they say it takes 21 repetitions to form a habit. well i have loved her for roughly 301 days. so maybe it’s just habit. or maybe love just doesn’t end. maybe you believe in words and i believe in feelings. and i do not feel like i will ever stop loving any of them. roughly 3,169 days have taught me that. but there’s a flaw in your reasoning. your energy conservation. because eventually you love someone else. more love is added. the circle is broken. unless, love goes away. unless love does end. unless it’s phases we live through. unless our love moves with us. so that when love stops it never truly stops, just changes location.

but i do not disagree with you. i too believe our love is anchored to people. far removed but still tethered to the people we once loved. really loved. i liken love to be more like a tree. which does not stretch inside itself in order to grow, but rather adds another layer. another ring that can only be seen—that only exists—on the inside. so that i am not giving away pieces of my heart rather adding to it another layer. from which i grow. 

[quasigenuine]

all i ever really wanted was to read. read people, read books. one just ended up being easier than the other.

[quasigenuine]

disillusion:

i can understand where it came from. i want to believe the best in him. i can’t say i always did. i did want him to lose so that i could win. though i do know that wouldn’t be the case. but before that, i wanted what was best for you. and after that, i wanted to believe the best in him for you. that words are not just words. that if someone is so compelled to say something then it must be true. it must be burning in them. their soberest and most sincere thoughts. so i believed the best in him, for you and for me and for the preservation of that word. the preservation of this idea i’ve built my life around. that sometimes it’s a fight. that in the end you can win. and the one you love can love you back. love you so deeply that it becomes inconsequential how it began. irrelevant that one person ever loved the other more. i believed that he was proving that. how could i question, i had never been there before. on the other side, trying to be won and letting myself be conquered. i had never been conquered. so while i believed the best in his words i could not understand, loving someone that i hadn't automatically known i could love. but now, i can understand where it came from. i can see that the flaw was in me. not that i could not understand but rather that i was trying to understand how he could love you, not how he could

say

he loved you. now i can see where it came from, how it bubbles up. i feel it on my tongue, but not in my heart. not that way.  i want to believe the best in him. but i can’t help but feel like i’ve solved some mystery. 

[quasigenuine]

scumbag:

You will never thank me for this. But I promise there will be something to be thankful for. I assure you this is good though it feels like knives. That psychologically this is will not break you. That you will be okay. Which is far better than what you have been. You needed a blame for the pain and I'm giving you one. Hate me. So that it's not you that wasn't good enough. Not you that wasn't wanted. Me, that took it. Me, that stole it. Otherwise you might have had it right? You would have kept fighting for it. I promise this is good for you. Though it feels like a thousand sharp knives in your back. I assure you one day you'll be thankful. Though you will never thank me. 

[quasigenuine]

qualm:

What if I never write again?

[aseaofquotes]

Walter Moers, The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear

[quasigenuine]

abstruse:

they said thats not how people like her talk. that’s not how people like her talk, especially to people like me. but i talk like me. i poke like i do. so the world bends like it does for me. so it’s not that she’s not like people like her. it’s not that she is like people like me. rather she is a person that talks to me. we are not like anything. and that does not have to mean anything. words can just be words. and feelings can just be feelings. and there is a long spectrum of intimacy that traces this dictionary that we live in. this is not a choose your own destiny novel. there is no table of contents to preface our pages.  

i cannot say what will happen. what could happen. but i know better than to think anything. and even more so, i know far better than to think it’d be me she chose, should someone like her decide they’d like to be someone like me. 

[quasigenuine]

inconclusive: I sought not to fix you. Not to heal you or change you. Only to find you. And for a year I have looked for you.

[quasigenuine]

formulary:

A modern-day math problem:

x < a

x ≠ b

x > c

where: a = love, b = lust, c = oxytocin, and x is what's between us.

[quasigenuine]

abnegation: