My beautiful creature,
We are going through waves, aren't we. We both know. Oh we know so many things. That this can't happen. That it is what it is. That we love each other. That we want each other in so many ways - and most of them are just... Human. Normal people things. Coffee in the mornings. Walks. Shitty TV. Just... Being there. Existing in the same space. Sharing it, devouring it, ourselves and one another as if it all was a loaf of bread and we're just absolutely famished.
And I'm trying, my dear. I'm trying to be kind to myself, to love myself. Not because I want or actually can. Oh no.
It's because noone deserves to deal with me as I am now. Nobody deserves the displeasure of dragging me out of the mud. To listen to me and my brain constantly raving about how I should not exist. Not die, no. Just not exist. To seal myself into a little box and stay there - not because I want to, but because that's the only way to protect others from whatever creature I am. Whatever I feel. Whatever I make others feel.
Just tuck myself, hide myself away.
But I'm not going to do that.
I was in the box for most of my life. Created by me sometimes, most of the time - constructed by others. I'd die in that box. I'm not going in. Never again in.
So you don't have to worry. I try - I really do try to love the body I carry, the brain I inhabit, the person I am, with all the flaws, saggy belly, over the top emotional range and everything else. With my rage. My anger. My desire to just set the world on fucking fire and watch it burn, because I hate it.
I hate it for creating me the way I am. For letting the shitty things that happen happen. For letting fucked up people exist the way they are.
I don't know if you can tell, but even with my hatred for myself I'm not hiding. I am, all, whole, all the time, right there in the open, because hiding things is painful. Hiding myself is painful. Maybe that's what you saw. Maybe that's what you like.
You... You do see me. And it's scary, but I promised myself not to hide. I have a feeling that I couldn't hide from you even if I tried.
And I think, I feel like I have so much - so much to say, there are so many sad, depressing, crushing things that we talked about today that could squish me into nothing. But I'm not going to do any of that.
Today I choose happiness.
Today I choose, I focus on your smile. On your giggles. On your warm warm eyes.
Your hands, your touch, the feeling of your forehead on mine has occupied my mind and everything else just seems like slush. You kept creeping up in my head while I was watching the play and I for some reason imagined you laughing next to me. But then other images would pop into my head, you, just... You know the ones. You fucking know, and I'd have to drag myself back to reality, back to the seat instead of fantasising about things I should deprive myself of.
And god I'm trying, I'm really trying to be good and... Decent.
But do you have any idea how long I wanted to suck on your finger? You have no clue... No clue whatsoever what's happening in my head.
And I could unleash it here.
But for reasons I've mentioned in my previous letters I won't. At least for now.
On top of that, I know where you would end up after reading it all. I know where I would end up after writing it. I'm probably going to end up there tonight anyway because how can I go to sleep... Like this?
Sorry. I should know better. I should aim for rationality and logic. And I'm really trying. I am, I promise. But god...
You know.
You fucking know and you enjoy it, immensely.
I can see how much you love doing this to me. Playing with me. And you want more, oh so much more.
Bastard.
And I'm going to make you pay.
Two can play this game, my dearest.
And I'm afraid I'm not going to be gentle.