I miss the memories I associated with you.
The nights spent on the train, rubbing my hands together in anticipation.
I miss the way you’d grip my thigh while you were driving, occasionally taking my hand in your own and kissing my fingertips softly.
When we spoke, we spoke eagerly with a hunger to devour one another. You smelled pleasantly of something not quite obtainable, but it intoxicated me. We dove into each other head first, bleeding in each other’s mouths until we could no longer clean up the mess. It will take time, unraveling your soul from mine. But I remember that night on the phone when I begged for a reason and you replied,
we will always be in flux
I could not argue with that.December 9, 2017: First snow fall of winter in NYC
December 15, 2017
God I do believe his mouth is some sort of heaven; his lips are a wine of which I desperately want to be drunk. It is true that I may never be able to rid myself of him completely. He will always be within me, a fiery desire that will never burn out.
Consume me, my dear,
want me down to the bone.
stain my sheets with your presence,
do not leave me alone.
December 16, 2017
Kissing has always been one of the nicest – and one of the most economical – ways to spend an evening.
– The Salt Lake Tribune, Utah, September 10, 1950
I never wanted a quiet, sensible sort of love. I wanted to be devoured.
– Beau Taplin, The Devouring
December 17, 2017
For the past few months I lost sight of who I was. What I wanted. Everything in my life was tinted with an inarticulate grey fog. I began carelessly seeing men twice my age, only to feel empty and alone every night, cursing myself for not making better choices. I lost faith in the idea of love. Commitment. Finding a man who truly cares about me. I found myself on the train every weekend, the destination always the same. The ride there full of empty promises, the ride back filled with disappointment. Each time I hoped to find home in someone else’s bed. To fill the lonely void boring a hole inside me. There was so much love inside me that was being wasted – I craved a meaningful connection and committed foundation, and that was not what I was receiving.
December 3, 2017: My favorite coffee shop, Stumptown Coffee Roasters, in the West Village
December 12, 2017
My thoughts are bleeding from my skull,
down my cheeks,
into my eyes.
December 13, 2017
It’s a most distressing affliction to have a sentimental heart and a skeptical mind.
– Nagulb Mahfouz
December 14. 2017
My heart has bled
In your mouth
And you have left me
To clean up the mess
December 9, 2017: Freehold, NJ