There is a stage of denial and then there is a stage of recognizing denial as an absurd self-deprecating front. When you become conscious that you are ignoring something more beautiful than sunrises, how could you live without accepting that beauty? There were nights spent together, tangled on tiny mattresses that locked our souls together in some romantic embrace even if our physical bodies were drunk and confused by morning. The desire spawned in these confused nights of scattered longing and the Seattle skyline at night over the water. The promise and potential. The longing and heart beating faster with words of collective lucid dreaming. If I dream that you are asleep next to me and you dream that I am asleep next to you, then theoretically we can betray our bodies and allow our minds to rest peacefully in each others company. Waking up alone may come as a surprise but to lucid dream about the same thing at the same time must awaken some spiritual connection. Something like the willful energy it takes to kiss every part of each others body. but that's where that ends. We can bury ourselves in pillows and soft music. We can give a fuck about nosy neighbors. We couldn't care less about the opinions of others and we can talk on the phone for the length of blockbuster movies. We can do everything together. We can fill the void. If we can pull off this collective dream thing we are masters of our fate and should remain, at least in part, in each others hearts forever. We don't know what will happen. Every time I see you it is like vacation. It is like I am experiencing myself on a beach in paradise with everything free and reality bends to my will. It is like I am truly and unquestionably the master of not only my own universe, but the universe in general. Would you like to watch me bend some spoons?
Her long hair, always some coloring to single her out from a line of suspects, piercings and tattoos, signs of alternative beauty, which to me is the only true form of beauty today, also a sign of some personal desire for mild self mutilation, and my own realization that this body is just a hunk of meat and flesh dangling on bones, and that pain is something we all understand in fair proportion, but every mind deals with it separately, there is a pleasure to be found in a personalized pain as in pinching yourself, on a light scale, or jumping through burning hoops of flames to feel the same way again... With her I feel light and free. We no longer hide anything. Very nice. There never was a reason to, despite gossip and talk. Our hearts were already in it.
She has a smile that stops hearts. A chesire cat grin to move mountains. Something intelligent and mischievous behind those eyes, the constant danger and inevitable unpredictability is what sold me long ago. Someone as afraid of commitment as I was. We found each other in a perfect climate of shitty relations and people to avoid... It was hostile all around us but those moments we stayed in each others arms to avoid the incessant knocking on the doors and walls were the very best despite friends hating us both for it. They didn't understand. Or they had a twisted jealousy.
I will sleep theoretically right next to you tonight, my dear. Look for me in paradise.
