"What is your favorite despicably beautiful thing?"
Two answers: sadness and you. Both comparable in more ways than one. You are a million gallons of peppermint tea, an avalanche of contaminated sunsets, ******* renditions of Gymnopédies. Remember year 2009? I watched the moon with you. You wanted to bathe in the half-priced rain shower and I said sorry, I'm sorry, I'm really ******* sorry, because I could do anything for you at that moment but I didn't. I didn't.
The mind is not the heart-- Don't be fooled, my hideous darling gremlin of a self. The mind. Is not. The. Heart.
And it never will be.
Pitter patter. I hear your calling in every rain drop. I see your face in every expensive thing I can't afford: that box of earl grey, those Japanese ******* tea cups-- But I can live with the loss of you. I can live. I can live. I am never alone anyway.
Well, this coffee tastes like reality. Written while having brunch with Julia.