Living for Brown Eyes

It feels irrelevant posting old love letters now; make-ups and rants and dated declarations. I am changing in myself and we are as a couple. I know I still love you. I can still just touch that feeling that I know is me loving you, and missing you when you’re not here. I can feel that. We’re good. We’re safe. I feel very numb these days but I am grateful; I would much rather that than be at your throat or your feet from one day to the next. I do still wonder the same things normal people do in relationships, but I suppose I am too tired to come to any conclusions that might make any difference to the way things are. I am grateful for you. I am happy with the way things are. I feel like I get what I want out of my relationships because I don’t worry anymore about how people will react when I tell them my feelings, regardless of what they are. I feel a kind of ultimate acceptance. In my dreams, perhaps because I am so open in reality, (what I perceive as reality right now anyway; who really knows) I revert to playground coy, feeling all the delicious shame and reserve I used to in the company of lovely wolves, unattainable, the dream happies. I know no individual is ever really unattainable to any other, not entirely, there is nothing final about the status of our relationships with the people in our lives. Maybe that is my foolish hope, but I can only speak for my own heart in that I never give up, and know I may always feel something different.

This isn’t the settled love note I intended to write. But I am different every day. I cannot be anything but what I need to be for myself. But I feel so good for it. I am more grateful now than ever that I can even forget the idea that a world exists outside my own imaginings, in which my friends might be annoyed by me, people may misunderstand me, I am not as cool as I think I am. I am, for now, completely my own doing, and I am happy with that.

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