You were there for me when I still didn't know that I needed you
You were there for me, but I still didn't know that I needed you
You'd be here for me right now if it weren't for me
The realization of this ruins me, and I deserve it

I have a customer at work who is turning 91 on Valentines day. Her name is Ann, she doesn't believe in using cellphones, and she has the clearest blue eyes I think I've ever seen. I'm not sure why little details like this stick with me, a sticky note of sort attached to my brain and heart. Sometimes I'm scared of these little details, of learning too much about a person. It scares me to know that these details that make me so fond of a person will be the same details to sting my heart the most if ever the day comes in which that person is no longer around. little ghosts found everywhere, little ghosts that remind me when I'm trying to forget, little ghosts that effortlessly and casually whisper in my ear and tug at my heart. We've been learning more about each other lately. Slowly, gradually, quite deliberately, now that I think of it, we've been taking our time, careful not to reveal too much, but anxious, anxious to learn as much about each other as we can. The thought of everything I've learned about you so far makes my heart swell. This, too, terrifies me. Yet I want more of you. These things can be difficult to make sense of, and there is this part of me that doesn't wish to understand. Devendra Banhart's lyrics echo in the open spaces between my bones and blood vessels, insisting, pleading for you to *please destroy me, please destroy me, please destroy me

I needed you

If I put you under my skin
Will it be easier to get over you?

En la madrugada
Existe dios

Y como yo
Llora  por un amor
Que debería haber sido
Y nunca lo será

Your go to guy
When you can't find the words to say
Cause people are too much
And the world is not enough
And you're trying to keep sane
And you're afraid to **** it up
But aren't we all
A little stuck
A bit overwhelmed
A little lost

2:20 on a Sunday afternoon, and I am afraid. I am afraid I'll one day forget the way this song moves me, the way it grasps my heart with invisible hands and pulls it out of my chest, past my mouth, past my head, leaving my mind perplexed and dizzy.

I am afraid you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me and I do not realize it.

There will come a day that I will not wake up to your disheveled hair and hagioscopic eyes, there will come a day that your warm skin pressed firmly against mine will not be the first thing I feel as I wake up to the rising of a new morning, and the idea, the mere thought of this brings me so much fear.

I am afraid of my heart, of its potential of becoming overtly attached, of becoming foreign and distant to a love it knows the most, to a love it keeps most close. I am afraid of my eyes, of their potential to overlook and oversee, images, moments, the passing of time, other sets of eyes.

I am afraid my layers of darkness, profound and crestfallen, will impede you from seeing any speck of light in me.