Darling boy. I think you’re more of a dream than
I’d like to admit. You’ve existed in my mind for
so long. You go by many names: soulmate. The
One. Love of my life. Angel. True love. Mister
right. Beloved. Red.
Why would I call you anything but your name
when you go by so many? I can call you my
sweetheart and it doesn’t hold what I’d like it to.
My Red. Color boy. Have you ever considered
that the crime scene of my heart is now covered
in your fingerprints? Does it bother you to have
your name so close to a ******? I’d like to think
your hands will be the softest thing to ever touch
me. I’d like to think your lips are even softer. I
want to believe that you’ll always love me like
this, the way that I’ll always love you like a
whirlpool. I am just spinning in my feelings
for you. They can be overwhelming, but I wouldn’t
change it for the world. It’s almost like the universe
created me to love you. I was created to be yours
and you were created to be great. You’ve succeeded.
And I hope I’m succeeding, too. I love you, soulmate.

i want to exist in a place where the softness i feel for you isn't
something that terrifies me. or a place where the fear of that softness
don't exist at all. i mean that in the best way possible-- a place where
the light in your eyes isn't quite so blinding. because it's love but it's
not earth-shattering and it's love but i keep falling sleep and dreaming
about you leaving or i wake up and think about you loving me. it's love
but it's terrifying. maybe it wouldn't be if we existed in a place where
i don't get my heart broken every time. but people make the same choices
over and over and the only thing i can do is hope it turns out alright this
time around. you make my heart a place of sunlight and i can't help but
think that was your intention this whole time. angels always come to
earth with a purpose. and i always do this, i say things i mean and i
have to explain them. and don't we give out our hearts over and over
every time someone asks us to? and you didn't even have to ask me.
like i said, every time. i give and give and it's always too much and i
don't mind being told i'm overwhelming. so it's 3am and i'm thinking of
you again and i'm me but i'm not me and the world feels so small when
i consider all the other planets out there. and i wonder if the moon
understands how hard it is to feel something that's love but not love and
never be able to describe it properly and i wonder if she ever feels
like a handful, too. i don't think i'm qualified enough to say i love you and
even if i was i don't know if i would but the sun rises every day and it
reminds me that i'm not supposed to be able to put these feelings into
words. and then it's 6am and i'm still thinking of you and i'm starting to
realize i always will be and yeah, i'm ****** but so are you, sweetheart.
i can curse my exes time after time but i can't pretend like they didn't
leave me for a reason but i can tell you i still haven't quite figured out why
but maybe you can explain it to me. i won't be surprised if it's something
you can figure out before i do. it's a sad night and there's always going
to be a boy that can't be good and he stays that way his whole life. boy
can't keep his mouth shut, boy can't help but start to love you, can't help
but panic at the thought. and that's all there is to it. the soft place only
exists in the universe where i can pretend the way i feel about you isn't
a gut-wrenching panic attack waiting to happen because the fear really
won't ever go away. but maybe you can prove the fear wrong instead
of me trying to convince myself it won't cause an earthquake.

I will wash myself in light. I will scrape away my hands on sunlight
and leave myself drenched in stardust, the kind of light you could
see yourself loving and I'll share it with you if you want me to. I'll
let you scrape off the flecks of moon or I'll run my hands all over
you and leave them in your hair. I think you'd like that, wouldn't you?
you'd like for me to leave little pieces of myself on you and it's
understandable. it's not so bad to share your light when it's someone
you can see yourself being with in the dark. we could exist in the
sunlight and the complete darkness and I'd be fine with either or
both if it was with you. don't mind me, fist-in-mouth boy, a boy with
nothing but love for you. you don't have to listen to me when I
say you're my boy but I hope you know I say it because I want to
wrap myself in the crook of your elbow and live there for a while.
I want you to taste me on your tongue like copper shavings or
summer berries and I will look at you like the sunrise or falling snow
because I can only compare you to beautiful scenery. you can be
the ocean and I'll be the ocean floor. as long as you're surrounding me
no one else has to know how far I stretch myself to return the favor.
I mean that in the best way possible. I have to try harder than other
people to let you know how amazing you are and I'll admit, sometimes
I worry other people could tell you that in a voice softer than mine ever
will be or show you with a heart not covered in burn marks. and I'll
only ever always be secondhand smoke hoping to be fresh air in
your lungs. sorry about that. what a clingy line. there goes the fist
again; taking itself out and letting me embarrass myself. I know you
won't mind. so I guess I should stop being so afraid to tell you I love
you; stop skipping around the subject and painting you scenes where
you're the sun and I'm worshiping you but I'm not as good with words
as you think I am. I can stretch those three words into a hundred others
but I can't say them plain and simple. and you know what I mean, don't you?
it's a scary feeling and I can't make it go away but I hope you'll be patient
because eventually I'll say them without an abbreviation or a joke or some
other distraction from the main point. it's cliche to say but I've always been
afraid of heights and ferris wheels were my favorite ride, so it makes sense
that I could fall and fall and still be afraid. fist-in-mouth could ruin everything but
somehow I don't think it will.