oh, baby, you tasted like peaches and smelled like rain.

Nothing has ever mattered more than this cigarette. After it burns away and the wind sweeps away its ashes, I am so sure that you will leave me. I am so sure that in your travels of coming and going that you will find your actual and destined true love and deem me inadequate. It has become increasingly harder to allow you to leave my side for this reason. I want for you to always be with me, and none of that ‘’ I’ll always be in your heart, ‘’ bullshit; I need you physically as well as emotionally.

I need to touch you as I need to breathe, sleep, eat; I need you as I need to fulfill these tasks to continue to live, to continue to live for you and only you. I need you as much as I need this cigarette, as much as I need this smoke filling my lungs and this nicotine tainting my blood in all of its chemically embraced deception. I need you as much as my need to keep needing you, loving you, being here with you. I need you as much as I need to make this cigarette last forever.

I have no record of time past this burning ember. I do not know of passing minutes or seconds. The only thing I am aware of is your presence cradled against mine, and all I know is your soul shining its glare into my eyes and blinding my vision. I am lost and found at the same time, and no longer do I have any concept of whom or what I am. All that I have passion for is the art of loving you; all I am worried about is the steady depletion of this cigarette. It is my lifeline.

It keeps you touching me, it keeps your soul tangled in mine, it keeps you here with me and in keeping you here with me, I can continue to live. In continuing to live, I can keep on loving you. I need to do this. I cannot stress that point enough, even if I sound like a broken record or a CD played one times too many.

The intoxicated air fills my lungs with a steady and departing cycle; it does not take all that long before my cigarette has finished, long after you’ve taken your last hit and flicked away the remains. It seems as if its Doom’s Day. I can almost hang my head with the sadness of my seemingly truthful assumption as you gather up your jacket and stand up; I can feel my happiness dying, and I can only watch you fumbling around in your back pocket for what I’m sure will be your keys.

My heart is breaking inside my chest and the air flow limits itself to none but me. My breath is labored and my head is lamenting your preparation for departure; it is a furious mess of emotions, of grief, frustration, and above all loneliness. I am spiraling downwards into depression as my system slows down. I am going to die unhappy; I know it.

Amongst the tatters of my soul, you take your seat beside me and you light another cigarette from a pack retrieved from your back pocket. And nothing has ever mattered more than you.


Dream I had about Kirby. I love you. Happy Anniversary Jupiter.

You.

I've been chasing you in every person I've dated in the past four years. Pretty blonde girls with blue eyes and pale skin, gorgeous messes, girls with some slight hint of artistic talent no matter how vacant it was. But they never measured up.

Their hair was never natural, their eyes never that startling, earthshaking shade of blue, none as talented, and not a one, who could pull off the morning after even half as well.

And so every single time, I always came back to the thought of you.

There was this point about a month and a half ago where I threw my hands up and stopped fighting gravity. I quit trying to escape the gravitational pull of you. I gave in. I'm done trying to escape velocity.

I told myself I would never find anyone like you in this world; only vague tainted essences that would leave me feeling empty.

And so I bought a ticket to the middle of nowhere because I needed you. I've always had this need for you that I've never understood. A need for your acceptance, your approval, your attention.

I love you like I miss you, even now. I've always always missed you. I miss you when you're right next to me. I miss you when you close your eyes, and I miss you when you look away from me, when your lips leave mine.


I want to marry you. I want to have children with you. Perfect, beautiful children that we can teach about the little things in life. About how much more they matter than what society deems important. The little pleasures; like how buttercups reflect on the bottom of your chin if 'you like butter.' And how to make daisy chains, and how you don't have to crouch to catch fireflies.

I want you to be the one I turn to when life is hard. I want to be able to be anywhere in the world and feel at home when I look at you. I want to see things with you, places, meet people. I want to share every single tiny beauty I find in the trail of the sun and the glint of the moonlight.

I want to sit on a porch swing with you when we're old and drink sun tea.

I want to level to 80 with you.

I guess, I'm in deeper than I thought I was. Because at this point, there is no turning back.

You, are the means to the end.

Happy Anniversary baby. Its been a long time coming.