You’re currently sleeping. I’m at home, it’s Fathers Day (Father’s Day? Fathers’ Day?), and it’s about five o’clock in the morning. I have cried twice tonight already. I’m on my period, but we both know I would’ve cried even if I wasn’t on my period.
I can’t English anymore, because it’s been a long time since I’ve Englished.
I can hear you breathing oxygen and nitrogen into your lungs, and within moments, the capillaries in your chest cavity take oxygen and you waste carbon dioxide and you expel it out your lungs and you are alive and I love you.
I have loved you for a long time, Boss, and I cannot contain it.
My love for you is like the core of the Earth, spinning and molten and always, always, always under the surface; I am always keeping it under the surface but sometimes I cannot contain it and when things shift, when the tectonic plates of my stone soul shift, it pours out of me; molten love pours out my eyes.
I cannot express things without using capitalized letters, but capitalized letters would make me sound like I am screaming. Words without capitalized letters bring a fire to the chest but not a burning desire to act.
My love for you always makes me want to act.
Let me try this: if every loveless homophobic could step into my shoes for one second the world would be a little more “I LOVE YOU” and less “I love you, but–”
I might keep the phone call running just to hear you take life in and out those precious, precious lungs. Do not ever take those lungs for granted.
We’ve talked about the fact that my love for you sometimes hurts me, and neither of us know why.
I think it’s because the world hurts you. I hate what hurts you, so I hate the world, but I can’t fight the entire world all at once, so it hurts that I cannot destroy what hurts you.
Or it’s because I’m like a wineskin too full of wine to keep from bursting at the seams.
Or it’s because there are only 24 hours in the day, and I am allotted sixteen of them to try and explain my feelings.
I don’t remember how to end things, but I think they usually are dramatic and thought-provoking, conventionally.