And then there are those times where you sit in your car listening to an entire tame impala album by yourself in the bar parking lot because you just endured the worlds worst way to end a casual relationship and you were essentially just walked out on by a guy you didn’t even like and you’re just a little too drunk to drive or process what the fuck just happened or why you do things like this to yourself so you just wait to see of you’re gonna throw up or cry or drive home or just sleep in your car forever cause you can’t even handle what bad decisions you make
Fall in love with someone who wants you, who waits for you. Who understands you even in the madness; someone who helps you, and guides you, someone who is your support, your hope. Fall in love with someone who talks with you after a fight. Fall in love with someone who misses you and wants to be with you. Do not fall in love only with a body or with a face; or with the idea of being in love.
Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.
Give me the lover who yanks open the door
of his house and presses me to the wall
in the dim hallway, and keeps me there until I’m drenched
and shaking, whose kisses arrive by the boatload
and begin their delicious diaspora
through the cities and small towns of my body.
To hell with the saints, with the martyrs
of my childhood meant to instruct me
in the power of endurance and faith,
to hell with the next world and its pallid angels
swooning and sighing like Victorian girls.
I want this world. I want to walk into
the ocean and feel it trying to drag me along
like I’m nothing but a broken bit of scratched glass,
and I want to resist it.