The things I miss

Your voice, whispering softly in my ear.
Your smile, like the sun coming out.
Your eyes flashing grey in sudden anger
The look in your eyes, saying Sir
Dressed to the nines dancing with abandon
Holding you after you spoke with family
Public displays of affection and your blush.

These 7 words for seven things that I miss.
11 years, 4 months, 11 days.

But there are those who are here that I love. But I’ll never be over her. I hope that’s OK.

Evil is as evil does

The goodness of a person is expressed in the actions they take and the way that they treat others. Who they are in their heart matters but if they take no action that echos that then it doesn’t matter.

A person who is evil that does good works has brought good into the world.

A person who is good who does evil works has brought evil into the world.

I don’t think it is as black and white as that but it behooves us to see ourselves by this criteria as well as others.

And to check in with ourselves to make sure we are acting as we desire and that those we associate with are as well. For instance, I love my father. But I must acknowledge that the man I grew up with has faded and been replaced by a dogmatic extreme right leaning person. I don’t think in his heart he is evil. But his choices and speech say otherwise.

February 14th

Valentine’s day. A day supposedly to demonstrate love to your partner(s). To plan something elaborate. I’m even writing a story based on Valentine’s day. Though that is more about celebrating the more social normative things while existing and living in nonnormative lifestyle. To use it as a excuse for play and special rather than the one or two days a year that people keep as special.

That is the rub. Valentine’s day is one of possibly 3 days a year that it is expected to be special. And most people leave it at that.

That is my problem with it. I may do something special because in our USA society it is ingrained and even if you don’t like it, not doing something is disappointing. But I don’t enjoy being forced into it.

I like romantic gestures and gifts. I like planning scenes or nights out. Writing poems or stories only you will ever see. I consider it vital that any partner of mine is cherished and knows, not just intellectually but bone deep that I love them.

And in a relationship that is all of the little things and small moments compounded by larger gestures.

I guess I just don’t like to be told this is the day you will know my affections. Plus I think the gifts and gestures should be throughout the year. No specific day should be needed for you to know how they feel.

I have friends who are in problematic relationships and while I don’t intervene because doing so would only cause resentment what I’m thinking is this: They made a big gesture when it was socially expected that they would but how do they treat you day to day, how do they demonstrate their love?

Note: Not abusive, problematic. Abusive and I don’t care if they end up hating me, I’ll take action.

Awake, aware, aflame

I wake up at 2 AM most nights. No matter when I go to sleep, BAM, 2AM and I’m awake. It’s not too bad, I suppose. I get time to write. But my mind isn’t drifting to writing lately.

I wake, but my still sleeping brain reaches for you. I’m convinced that not being able to touch you; not being able to bury my face in your neck and smell you. Not being able to kiss your spine and murmur, “Mine.”

Not being able to do that, because you are not here with me, wakes me fully. My mind missing you, my body straining for you.

If I’m being honest, I have this image of you waking next to me, snuggling back into me as I kiss you and we move on to less gentle pursuits as I possess your every nerve ending, until you are floating in pleasures.

Not that we would not have been with each other before sleeping but I wake up with a need for less control and more take what I want.

These are my thoughts lately. 2AM without you.

Painful desire

Surface from deep sleep
inflamed by my need of you
choking on my desire
clenched like a fist too tightly around a stone
a stretched string waiting for your touch
Waiting for the melody playing in my head to be given voice
but I’m alone
This pain recedes
never satiated
no action is enough
without you in my arms
To set me free