Control

New Places

It comes back in flashbacks and echoes. My mind is always hazy and unclear but I can always remember how it felt to be touched by him, how his cold, sharp hands could play with mine and what that did to me. The weakness caused me pain and it's made me stay awake at night. I hoped it would fade away, I prayed it was a phase but I guess I needed him. It was delusional to think anything would come out of a bus ride but it was impossible to think of anything else but being in his arms forever. I hate the idea that we could even drift apart and it makes me feel small inside. The idea I can't recall every beautiful part of his face makes me so uneasy. I think that's why I love nostalgia so much, he helps me see more clearly. He gives me wings. And that's why I hate it, that simple waves of lust and pain can just haunt me and tear every part of me down, until I'm nothing. I guess what allows me to continue with what I'm doing longer than I would consider healthy is the illusion of friendship and how levels of that can cascade in my dreams. It's not abnormal to have make belief with desires but I made into a sexual haven and toxic fandoms. Saturated with joy makes what ever reality I could salvage a scenario of ink in water. Well, it's nice to admire your framework but I'm not an artist and I'll always be insecure about that. I can't compare to him and I use religion to fill in gaps, questions whatever it is to comfort me and to preserve this paradise I've spoon-fed myself. Wow I'm dumb. I think something I hate about myself the most is that my taste is poor. I'll look at analogies and relate to them so much but can never inherit the ability to create my own. I rely on second hand emotions and that's the same for him too. I just can never get my emotions to match what I'm thinking or what I aspire "us" to be. It's a shame.