If there is one thing about music, it has the power to take me places emotionally that can be so powerful. Listening to Spotify radio I started to feel the vibrations of the song Both of us by B.O.B. and Taylor swift. It was taking me far passed my emotions.

You were so beautifully open with me about your losses, your mistakes and what you consider weaknesses. All I see is a magnificent person putting themselves back together. I have never been good at arts and crafts but I want to buy all the supplies to glue or stitch all the parts of you back together that this world has robbed you of. All the parts you feel are missing or are ashamed of , and the parts anyone ever made you feel were undesirable. Because I desire to know and love all of you. I want to hug you and somehow absorb all of your pain and worries.

So here I am at 3 am, way passed a respectable bedtime. Shamelessly by my desk lamp looking into flights, scrolling down job search pages, contemplating internships and housing in a foreign land. An environment as he describes ; “with things that can or are trying to kill you”. And I wonder, if he knows. Does he realize the impression he made on me? Is he aware I daydream about healing together?

I don’t know how to describe the urge I have in everyday terms. I feel like if there was an experimental study drug that would induce molecular beaming, I would take the risk. Yes, I am now a avid supporter of teleportation. My mind feels like a runaway train I have no control over as I now lay awake wishing I could translate my emotions into music so he could feel the vibrations of my being and how much I long to carry both of us.

I’ve heard personal experiences of others and always made it out to be dramatic emotional banter. Like those sappy movies where a girl meets a guy on vacation and 3 days into it they are madly in love, head over heels , ready to move heaven and earth because nothing else matters.

I never buy those kinds of books, i never watch those kind of movies. How can anyone quickly be so certain about something so subjective as love, something so dangerous with the force of a hurricane and a tsunami combined ready to sweep you away and burry your broken bones under a thousand pounds of rubble to drown you in your own tears? Are they insane?

Maybe it is because I’ve been hurt too many times that I never let anyone see Me, the vulnerable heart-in-hand Me. And yet there was something magnetic and pure about his personality that kept me engaged for hours, more than I am willing to admit. I always felt like there was something different about me, something I always have to hide or break down into digestible pieces, in the hopes of not scaring people away. I’ve been told I am too much, too complicated, too direct, too intense. On that august day you kept talking and I kept laughing and I unconsciously gave you more of me than I ever let anyone have because my experience is always considered baggage. But somehow I felt elevated, understood, safe. It was as if I took off all my layers of protection and the inner Me, the heart-in-hand Me stood there naked and something in your inner self recognized something in me.

And now I’m revising my opinions, I’m containing my many fears. I’ve come to the realization that certainty is scary, perhaps terrifying. I heard your voice, your challenges, your laughter, and I knew. I must be as insane as the people in the movies because after that one day I knew I would move heaven and earth to make you the happiest person to ever have walked this planet.

I get distracted easily. I get distracted easily while you shower me with kindness. It comes to you so naturally and I am so sensitive to your little comments, concerns for my safety and constant eye for my well-being. How to tell you that your accidentally awakening the sleeping mistress in me by Unknowingly making me crave you?

I often run my fingers gently on my skin, tracing my silhouette while you speak. Thinking what it would be like to be under your protection and how wet that makes me. Would you find me weird? Unintended romanticism is what I label our friendship as I wonder what you smell and taste like as we talk about spirituality , big life questions and family life. Would you look at me the same if you knew?

I want to feel your warm hands caressing my cold back as I feel your breath on my neck. I want to press up against you while running my fingers through your hair kissing my way from your forehead to the tip of your nose. I want to stick my tongue out and gently draw the outline of your lips while I thrust my hips forward asking you to take me.

I want, I want and I want. I get distracted easily, too many details. You are a soul so effortlessly beautiful that I cannot contain myself and where my mind wanders to.

There are things, little things I never imagined desiring this much. Things that before meeting you were meaningless, things that before discovering this powerful song in me that only you know the melody to never resonated.

I imagine standing in the kitchen cooking, the kitchen of our house. I imagine arranging things, things for our table, a big picnic table in our backyard overlooking our pool. I imagine dancing to music, as our clock strikes closer to your arrival time. I imagine how nothing could compare to the sound of your keys opening the door to our house followed by little footsteps ready for my embrace.

As I sit here imagining all these little things, I wonder how a keyhole can be the center of everything I desire.

I have this strong feeling of rage. I don’t know if it’s just rage or also disappointment, but it feels so powerful. If my feeling was an element it would be this burning red flame consuming everything around it as it gains momentum.

You have given me so much rage, you started this unrest within me, that gave birth to an untamable fire. Amid your neglect, arrogance and selfishness, I am left to burn internally to save you from yourself. Because you are unable to move past your own insecurities.

I hope for you this rage dies down, fizzles out on it’s own before I explode leaving you with the aftermath. Not one single thing in this relationship is cared for by you, yet you like to claim all the beauty of everything in front of your audience. Hence the confusion about the lack of mention or credit for the Bitch who made it happen, the superwoman without the cape who keeps you afloat in these unpredictable waters. I pray someone sprays me with water, showers me with love, affection and care. I have no problem burning down everything to the ground that I build up. Beware of the heat.

Im learning to let go. Not of a person or a situation, but letting go of my expectations.

Im learning to be ok. Being fullfilled as a person and requiring only my own recognition.

Im learning to laugh. There is joy everywhere and even the smallest details I’d like to share.

Im learning to love. And if anyone costs me my peace, the trouble isn’t worth enough.

I told you..I just want you to know I see you. I see you visiting my private page, looking through all of my pictures, posts and updates. Would it be cocky of me to put it out there that I told you that you will be looking for me in another person? Yet here we are. About 10 years after we locked eyes. But I refuse to react to your advances, I refuse to give you access to me.

I remember how soft your skin is, how sweet you taste and the way only you know how to make everything else in the room disappear with your smile. I told you that you will be looking for me in another person. And we both know She isn’t me.. and I know He isn’t you. I told you.

How do I explain these mix feelings that I get? I’m trying not to act on my impulses, the mind of my younger self. The urge to indulge in mere light flirting with willing outsiders as I feel more and more neglected in this fragile relationship. It isn’t my doing, this isn’t my fault. My heart is in intensive care due to your mind games and my soul is devising an exit plan while my brain is pacing back and forth trying to rationalize and reason with my subconscious that my heart does have a chance, it will survive and be stronger. ” please don’t give up just yet!” My Brain pleads to the group in the recovery room while my heart is still knocked out after yet another heart open surgery proceeding one of your latest incineration of its vulnerable walls. My gut stands up and shares that at this point it has a strong feeling that this is all too abusive, you are too hurtful, inconsiderate and selfcentered. My subconscious agrees that our focus should be on nurturing my heart back to health and my brain adds that there is no need to be emotionally abused, deprived of affection and financially drained. My soul thinks I deserve better, My heart will pull through and We will rebuild my confidence. Starting with the one intellectual who stimulates my brain, one old flame who calms my heart, a spiritual prospect who soothes my soul, and one adventurer who pleases my gut. And my subconscious suddenly comes forward as My heart opens its eyes. ” let’s go home, to our inner peace, red lipstick and dancing shoes”. You hold no exclusivity over any part of me anymore.

I lost all my creativity. Dealing with your continuous rejection while taking everything from me. I lost all my trust because everytime I convince myself you don’t actually see me as your stepping stone, you go and shut me out. I am loosing my self esteem because I am good enough to be your support, bank, cheerleader and sounding board and yet you omit things, act mysterious and never show me off.

I wonder if you are afraid of losing me, you should be. I will loose all 200 pounds of you before I loose anymore of me.

Ooh how the world changes when you learn to see the beauty in every part of your story. Throughout my journey to get here there have been some rough chapters, difficult plots and harsh endings. Characters written off that I believed would be in the main cast forever. Just when I thought there would be no story to tell without all the twists, drama and events, I realized my complexity, love and intelligence were all I needed. This is my story and every chapter is essential to the book that I call life.