Why did you enter my world and **** up my pysche?
I asked you not to come in.
You lingered at the door with a silent smile
And inside;
Inside, I hoped

Love for me was waking up tangled in your arms,
it was the butterflies I got when I heard your name, love was when my heart skipped a beat when you smiled at me, it was listening to the rhythm of your heart and loving the way it made me fall asleep thinking we would be together forever.  

Love for you was making me believe I needed you for everything, it was leaving bruises on my body and calling them love marks, it was watching as I scarred myself and letting me blame myself.

But in the end I don't think it wasn't our different views on love that broke us apart. It was the fact that I believed I was strong enough to take the hit for both of us. I failed and the price I had to pay was you leaving me.
-M.G

I miss you, I want to see you. But not because it’s “couple season” – not because it’s cold and gloomy and city lights explode with hands conjoined. You are worth more than the missed holidays, more than the occasions spent without us being in the company of one another: Hallowe'en, my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, probably your birthday, too, as well as Valentine’s, and our anniversary.

On these specially marked days, I feel a certain emptiness as you, my beloved other half, is not present with me, yet that which is not emptiness, for you still fill my heart plenty. In these times, I feel envy as lovers are so obviously visible everywhere, yet that which is not envy, for they are not you. I may suffer from your absence but I don’t suffer from jealousy. See, I love you, this one man who cannot compare to the likes of any other, this one man who strangely loves me back, this one man who’s mine and to whom I’m his.

You are so very special to me and you mean a lot to me. I love you, I lurve you, I lava you, ILY (code), I <3 U (symbols), je t'aime, saranghae (Korean) – I want to say it a gazillion times and it wouldn’t be enough, and yet I don’t want to say it because it’s only an ensemble of words, an expression that is just too common, overused, cliché and weak, whose (level of) meaning doesn’t remain constant. Perhaps I could keep coining new ones, but then again I don’t want to be simply, mindlessly uttering or writing them like so, as if out of habit.

I want this so-called “love” to be conveyed in such a way that – a tap on the shoulder, a  homemade dinner and handcrafted gifts, a random drive, a silent gaze, a goodbye hug and a goodnight kiss, my sleep-mumbling in your ear and your snoring on my nape, and the sharing of clothes – would melt our heart and let us fall a little deeper, therein meaning exponentially more than a mere, verbal, three-worded clause, “I love you.” That’s the kind of love I want us to be… partaking in.

Today, eight months later, (although I am still thirteen hours ahead, still 8,070 miles East, and still not in your arms…) at the last stroke of the small hand, we both wave and bid farewell to 2015 and welcome and gaze at 2016.

I’m thankful that love found us, I’m glad that we followed, and I’m happy that our relationship remains in the present.

May the new year be full of goodness!

You want me to "give you space". If it were mine
I'd give you Space and Time, and all the rest,
those other dimensions I can only dream of,
and dream of sharing all of them with you.
Must I be satisfied with just one moment?
I looked (ah, once!) so far into your eyes,
and saw to depths where I could fall for ever;
your look, your touch spoke more to me than words.
One point in time, but such a radiant point
its light and joy filled all my universe,
and now you look away, withhold your touch.
So I must learn to ignore, deny my feelings.
How to deny what I felt from the start?
You ask for space. The space is in my heart.

When my hands get this cold,
I remember how you would rub them between yours and blow your warm breath on them to get the slightest sense of heat,
In that very moment id think about how they way you kept my hands warm made me love you,
When I was nervous,
I'd fight with my hands to stop shaking and stirring like a ride at that theme park you took me last summer,
When I got nervous you just took hold of them and sometimes pulled me into your chest to bring me back,
Out of my nervous state,
And sometimes you'd put your hand on my thigh and look at me and mouth "I love you"
Our hands didn't fit,
It wasn't as easy as when Cinderella put on her glass slipper,
And maybe that's why you aren't holding my hands anymore,
Yours were so big and mine were so small it was forced and maybe so was our love,
Maybe that's why you're holding her hands,
Maybe it just so happens your hands fit perfectly,
Meant to be,
Whenever my hands get this cold,
I wonder where you are,
But then it takes me a minute to get back into reality,
You're somewhere,
Blowing on her hands,
Because her hands got this cold.

a strange happening
continues
one after another to the
same family
I think
someone in heaven
taking a TV serial
on them…