You were a ghost today, haunting me through the streets. I've been in your neighborhood a lot these days, but you'd been on my mind for a longer while. I'm not sure if it's been the rainy days, the weed or the longing for home. At times I feel like I'm not enough to make a home on my own, and I miss your mother's scones and how daring you were to show me the extent of your desire for me.
So much orange today along the Panke, while I tried hard to remember all the faulty bits, for my soul keeps yearning for yours, your immensely straightforward, direct love and your gentle but strong touch that went through my skin into depths of connection I never had.
What does it mean that the last time you brought me to new heights? What does it mean if home feels like you?
Probably trauma, but the brain knits narratives looking for meaning, hope. So dumb how one day nothing matters and everything does the next.
Why do I feel guilty still? I know it was bad, but I tried my best under the circumstances and I've never been the only one to blame. Maybe it's about the need to forgive myself for not having been up to my own values, or maybe it's just the changing weather. These storms that make my void crack open and bring death to my mind, while wishing for a warm, comfortable embrace, just lying there enjoying the company, nowhere to go, nothing to do, but connected.
She said you're alright and I shouldn't worry, that calms my heart. I hope you're happier and fulfilled, I even hope someone new came along. I hope you have found a home.
I've been thinking so much about my life, yesterday I had whole hallucinations about how you're my mother and he is my dad. So hard to understand, so much hiding, so contrived; yet the other option is insane, high stress, and ultimately suicide.
I want reliance and depth in love, respect and freedom, but it has transformed its meaning, for it's now also freedom in the expression of one's emotions, desires and truth. I want to feel that through touch, through starring into each other's eyes, through words and laughter.
My life feels empty, not due to your absence, but also, sometimes. My soul is yearning for home, but home was always unsafe, so now I'm in a really strange place.
I don't know what I want from my life, still. I'm lost, still. It's been proven time and time again that what my mind yearns for, isn't how my heart and body will live and feel it. So I am maybe even more lost than I used to.
I really, really hope you're ok.
my Lou.