love(sick)

by Kennedy Gale

i cant write this

i dont know why i am pretending that i can write this

because if i write this 

and if i share it 

people will read it 

and i will want you to read it

because i want you to know every stupid little mundane thing about me

i want you to know what my favorite color is and my favorite movie and my favorite song and the fact that i dont have a favorite song (because how could anyone pick just one) and my favorite authors and the things i dream about (you)

you told me that you looked through the playlists on my spotify account to get a glimpse inside my brain

you told me that you had a list of things about me (because you keep lists for people that are important to you) and the things you learned about me from the music i listen to was on that list (that i was soft) 

i also know that when i couldnt eat because life was too hard and too much and i told you that i went to the store to buy blackberries and bread because those were things that were safe that i could nourish myself with until this feeling passed you added those foods to your list just in case life got too hard and too much again so you could help feed my body and keep this fragile frame full of life

i want to know what else is on that list

i want every stupid little mundane thing about me to be on that list

i want you to see and understand and memorize the way my heart aches (breaks) every time i think of you and add it to that list

because you love me so much but in a way thats not enough and i dont know where to put it so i keep frantically shoving every crumb i can capture every drop that doesnt escape between my fingertips inside of me and feast on the feeling of being loved and cherished and cared for but theres not enough room and all of this bingeing on your affection is going to make me burst and i want to vomit with the nausea of desperately keeping it all in (and the guilt of eating something i know did not belong to me) (i wish it belonged to me) (i wish you belonged to me)

i hate how every time life gets hard or confusing or painful i immediately want to call you and beg for you to come over and hold me and kiss my tears as they leave hives down my face (because of course im allergic to my own tears) (add that to your list) and tell me that everything will be alright and that you wont let anything hurt me except you dont understand that the way you are loving me right now is hurting me but also you not loving me how i want (need) you to is hurting me and i think i just need for you to choose whether or not you love me and stick to it but please (please) dont stop loving me

i cycle between caring too much and not enough and i think im getting motion sickness and im finally understanding all of the girls who listen to phoebe bridgers because i need someone to slow down and help me back onto the ground and hold my hand as i steady my heart and the worst part (the absolute worst part) is i want that person to be you

the first night i was in your bed you told me two things i cant forget about 

1. nobody had ever held you the way i do because i held you in a way that made you feel wanted in your entirety and i didnt know how to react because i could not understand why anyone wouldnt hold you with all of the love they could carve out of the pit of their soul with blunt fingernails while offering it up with blood soaked hands as their vision blurs smiling as the static settles in their ears and they sacrifice themself to the privilege of loving you

2. that i was the smartest person you know and in the aftermath of it all that meant more than every compliment about how beautiful i was

the first night i was in your bed i didnt tell you one thing i cant forget about

1. i love you

/\/

you told me once that you could imagine your life with me

i do imagine my life with you