dear anyone.
<<2002-04-29 - 12:47 pm>>
Dear Anyone:
How�s it going? I heard about your dog. I�m sorry. I hope you get a new one soon.
But that�s not really what I wanted to talk about. I�m writing to say that you and I have been friends for a long time. We�ve been through a lot. Well, to me, it seems like a lot. It seems like we�ll always be friends. The ease in which you shed your guard amazes me. It convinces me that you and I were meant to know each other.
I know you�re not thinking about me right now. I know you never do. I know you take my presence as a given. I know when you neglect me, hurt me, make fun of me, insult me, kiss me, run your fingers through my hair, scribble your name above my belly button, hold me in your arms, lend me your umbrella, hold my hand as cross the street, pay for my coffee, it�s only because you have an ulterior motive. I know nothing we do together means a fraction to you of what it means to me. I know when you go home, all the words and secret glances and giggles and contact is stricken from your mind. You�re so easygoing. You bring me so much pain and so much pleasure. You scare me and delight me. I hate myself for jumping to so many conclusions about us.
I know I�m not that possessive. My fists don�t clench in anger when I see you speaking to someone else. I don�t mind that you recycle the same jokes with me, the ones that you�ve used with your more important friends. It�s worth it, being your fifth wheel, when it�s just you and I spending time together.
You spurn me over and over. You try your best to make me jealous. You delight in the sigh of me in pain. You show up in my dreams as an emerald serpent. You do everything that you do just to survive. What once was magic is now an empty shell. You wreak your pleasure from me, then you turn away when I come for mine. It�s become bittersweet.
And you are so perfect for me, so sublime and so quietly genius. You and I move on the same wavelength. We breathe the same air and beat with the same heart and bleed with the same pain. You can never get your thoughts out of your mouth because I�ve said them already. I love the way you�re always to shy to ever tell me anything yourself; you settle for the subtle inadequacies of song. I love watching you play. Your bliss is my bliss. When I�m lying next to you, cocooned in blankets, I dream the same dream. You never say anything.
And somehow I think you�ve died already without anyone noticing. Somehow I feel as if you�ve finally stopped caring completely about anything but yourself
You. Your insecurities are the most beautiful thing in the world. I want so badly to give you everything you want � but you don�t seem to notice the fact that you are absolute perfection as you are. You fill the hole that is left when everything else takes turns trampling me.
You fill me. You make me so happy. You are the missing link, the broken piece. Every little thing you say makes me ecstatic, eager � desperate � to please you.
I am never the top, the best, the number one.
I am always the fallback, the one who will always be waiting, the leftovers, the sloppy seconds, the pre-owned.
I am always last wheel.
But right now, it doesn�t quite matter, because with you� I can love you so much and so earnestly, and hate you just as much, and you�d never have to know.
