they pay to kiss your feet

since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.

Friday, February 17, 2006


Your hands look like the male version of mine. I forget that sometimes and instead, I dwell on your mind that thinks different thoughts than mine, and I wonder why our minds can’t be more alike or why sometimes, we don’t laugh at the same things. Or why you hate some of my music. And I hate some of yours. I forget that your soul looks like mine and so does your heart, and I forget how closely you hold me when I am scared and how it feels to be embraced by arms that would protect me from anything. Mostly, I forgot what it was like to laugh together at the same thing at the same time. Uncontrollably. Last night, I remembered. We may have been laughing at my own stupidity, but it was funny and we laughed and it was late but we still laughed and it was past our bedtime and Gus was already sleeping beside us, but we didn’t care and we laughed and I felt like everything was okay again. And it felt good.

I’m not always easy to love. In fact, I’m probably sometimes the hardest person for you to like. But somehow, you still do — love me. And I love you and because of that, because of a love that transcends our understanding or the limited vision we have of our life and what the future might bring, we will be okay.

You love me when I’m having a fat day and when I hate my hair or when I just feel like being alone or crying or running forever and endlessly. You love me when the dinner I made doesn’t come out quite right, when I spend too much on clothes and when I rent another movie that wasn’t worth it or that you hated. You love me when I don’t want to eat or when I feel like eating too much. And right when I wake up, when my hair is horribly out of place and my face is pale, when I have sleep marks on my skin and unflattering pajamas on, you tell me I look beautiful. And you make me believe you.


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