just call it every wrong thought I've ever had
Wondering things which maybe I shouldn't. Dancing for an hour. Choking down chia seeds. Strip the sheets off the bed, the mattress topper, duvet. Black hairs everywhere that I'm loathe to lose if only in the symbolic way or whichever way makes it sound less insane. Like, it's cool. I'll see you next year. If you're still into it by then of course. I guess. No worries. No big deal. Tell me, is this giving Regency or he's just not that into me™? + did I do a good job at hiding it on my face when you told me + were holding my hand or did I just dissociate + was it obvious + did you judge me. Put my hands in my pockets. Put my hands over my mouth. Put my hands where they belong + put myself between your teeth. Hope you'll chew on me like a bone. Hope you'll tie me up with your tongue. Every time you're with me I think you like to please me, but you like to please everyone. + I wonder does anyone ever wonder what it would mean to be pleasing you, if you ever would let yourself have it, like, one thing + it is just for you. +, like, do you even want to be here with me? + if so, could I be one of those things or is that all too much + am I just being delusional. All this pointless performing when all I want is to give you what you want. You know, except for when you're giving me what I want until I go blind + can barely breathe. Sorry. I won’t pretend that I'm not greedy. But I'd like to think there's space enough for all of it, or maybe there isn't anything you want me to make space for + I should go ahead + stop already. Maybe you don't want the room made for you, don't want the hand raised for you, the dinner cooked, the house cleaned, another new beauty spot + all this thought put in for you when maybe you don't like being special or maybe you just need to learn to get used to it. See, I am trying to reciprocate you, a novel concept, or maybe I am just being stupid. I probably very often am. I like to show you that I see you, trying. Trying for me. But do you even see me seeing it? I'm trying to say thanks + instead I'm saying nothing at all once again. He asks if we've managed to speak since + I say something very mature to excuse us of any accusation of avoidance. See, I'm allowed it. You + all my feelings. + he tells me not to deprive myself whenever I talk about blocking you. Because I'm a coward. + everybody knows it. But I'll make it sound more ethical than that. I'll make it sound some grand sacrifice, an act of friendship. If I make the choice for you + I leave, am I no better than anyone? Because I don't want to infantilize you. Not really. I don't want to protect you from myself. Because I think I am safe. Anyway. I think I am good. But maybe you wouldn't agree. + I'm not on the committee, so I can't plea my case. Kiss the cut on your finger. Not everyone deserves it. Funny thing. Because it's not something to earn, it's the something I chose. Call it a gift. Call it anything you can live with. Call it something you've received. You're, like, oh God. I don't want to give you the compliments I'm thinking. You probably wouldn't even believe them. + I don't know what to do about everything. I was kind of hoping I wouldn't have to. Is there somewhere in the middle. Like, is there anything you might need. Did you have the time you came for, did your belly get full, did you stuff yourself stupid, or do you perhaps want some more. If you could only make it obvious, I might just aim to please.
