You ever wonder about the weird things that you find romantic? Like for me, its having the same sleep schedule as me. It seems like something so small but it means that when you get tired, I do and vice-versa. Which means we get ready for bed and go to sleep at the same time. Which means we’re awake and can have time together at the same time.
Now, maybe that’s weird but my sleep schedule is a split one. I tend to sleep at about 8-10pm for about 4 hours. Then I wake up for a few hours then sleep for 2-3 hours. It works for me but its odd.
If someone were to have the same sleep schedule it would open up whole worlds. We could go exercise together. We could watch a movie or read or play a game. Because those small hours between sleep seem like stolen ones. Like they exist outside of the normal day to day and can be used for things that aren’t normal. Those hours exist in a gray area and can be used for whimsy rather than normal.
Existing outside the standard day diurnal cycle is hard. Maybe I just find those hours lonely and wany to share it.
There are people who I have to quash my thoughts about who I will think something like “I wonder where they are? Are they coming to see me? Are they going to tell me something important?” I have to squash that line of thinking because it escalates very quickly. Primarily, because I know exactly what my actions would be.
I feel very much that if they were to commit to an action that puts them in my orbit I would step the rest of the way to them.
But such thoughts are just dream. And letting myself dream those moments, while attractive are self-destructive. Eventually, the dreamer must wake and see that it’s not true.
But those worlds exist somewhere. I suppose I’ll just have to be happy that some alternative version of me is happy.
Why do I pick people who are unavailable to fall for? Am I just that blind? Or… Or am I subconsciously picking people who won’t want me or if they do want me, can’t have me because of distance or their present relationship entanglements? If so, what am I afraid of? Rejection maybe? But I get told no all the time. I don’t think that’s it. Or not the larger portion anyway.
I think, on the one hand, I want a passionate emotional relationship but in person I may come off as cold. Controlled. And I am pretty jaded and world weary. So not alot surprises me. Also I find passionate people to be idealistic. I have ideals but I’m ruthless in they’re application and that ruthlessness is at odds with the more nice approach to problems. I think that there are solutions but I see them as generational shifts not something that can, lastingly, be done in the short term.
And I’m sexually adventurous and would like a partner that is open to that. Most of those in my age area are married or with someone. And while I don’t mind being in a consensual polyamoury situation, I have to really like the person to even consider it. And I generally prefer to be the pivot.
And I am also afraid. And I think this is the heart of the matter. I’m afraid I will commit my heart and spirit, time and mind to someone and they will leave me. It seems people are always leaving. They probably have good reasons, for them, but to me it just feel like the place they most want to be is away from me. That is just devastating.
And the more it happens the poorer my judgment gets. All feeding back into poor choices.
The heat shimmers
Sundrenched waves rising from melting asphalt
Anger flares created and quenched
Like a match in near vacuum
The city sleeps as night
Cough syrup slow
Oppressive beat of sun gives way
To the warm embrace of night
A sauna composed of sky and moon and you
What tears and mind do portend
What shallow reckoning
With speed of sorrow do forfend
This essence flickering
As the candle gutters out
Of your guiless sibilance
Do memories of love show rout
False flag fails fair remembrance
Romance dies ere it lived
A tragedy looking back
But heart still loves, still yearns, still bled
So mind must follow though it knows better than to chase it’s lack
Oh, silly heart, with rhyme you seek but Piercing veil with naught to speak
She doesn’t see you, doesn’t want you
It’s time to walk away
I’m sure your body is beautiful. But I’m looking at your eyes. Your eyes are the window to your soul. They reflect the world around you. I want nothing more than to see them crinkle with a smile when they see me.
The body is a playground and, believe me, we will play. Your joy, your laughter, your sobs, your tears, the soft thoughts and harsh words. These all are seated in your eyes, issued forth from lips and tongue, breathe over vocal cords. Churned forth in the maelstrom of your mind.
I may like the way you move, the outfit you wear. The form of your body. But I reserve my love for the parts that make up your soul. Whisper your words, pierce me with eyes, show me your world.