Bigfoot Sighting

Good morning my loves. Been a couple of days. Been busy. Life happens. 

This is hard to find the words for. 

She is wonderful and amazing. Everything. I would do anything for this one. She makes me feel. A whirlwind that picks up the scattered pieces and makes them feel close to whole. That one in a million.

But.

Right. The cosmos in their infinite dickheadery cannot allow this. They live only to move the bar.

We click and fit mentally. Pieces snap together, odd occurrences lines up and a billion similar interests. Honestly, only a fool would not find themselves falling for such an obvious perfect catch. 

She is sitting next to me. Beautiful and arrrrrgh. It is damn near traumatizing. So fucking close.

But so far.

I cannot do this. Write about the person I am mad for as she sits next to me. Talking to me. Reading the news and looking fucking adorable in her glasses. The urge to stare, say some thing, anything at all is overwhelming.

But nope. Nope Nope. Bad dummy.

She is like an ink blot test. But I see something different with every glance. And every angle brings to light something new and sublime. 

Smitten smitten smitten.

She is so very right 

But the timing is so very wrong. I can see actually falling in love. But I think I would be alone. Am alone? 

Fuck.

The match is right the time is wrong. She has been through, and continues to go through so much. She is strong and mighty. And pulled in a hundred directions helping and being there for everyone. It makes her all the more special to me. 

But it means she is probably not going to be able to return what I am becoming more and more unable to contain. And I have to. Dear reader I must. Here’s the crux. This open love letter is to her and needs to be one that is scribbled and burned or it could do cause harm. I want a chance to grow some thing but the season is not right and more than likely the seeds die.

Fuck. 

Boo hoo. The little emo boy stubbed his heart. I am not a little emo boy. This is not a sad declaration. It is one of wonderment. I am the perfect long distance boyfriend. Sweet and flowery, pays attention and tries very hard to be good. I think in person that becomes real and then becomes scary. I am too much. 

I am not one for prayer. Or pleading. But I really want a chance this time. And that is selfish and means I do not deserve one. Try and it is a failing score. Do not try and fail anyway. 

Sasquatch into the woods behind me. Softly fade away. Take this weird in love with a broken heart vibe and send out a blurry picture to those sons of bitches sitting in some control room watching it all.

They manipulate the data. Flooded New Orleans from a castle in Beijing. they keep setting up these scenarios to watch me flail about before epically failing.

I respect the craftsmanship. In awe of the levels willing to go to keep me just on this side of sane. Tiptoeing the edge of the abyss. Always seeing that one lifeline in the distance. A mirage. The rope that is really a snake, or bucket of salt water. 

I commend You dear reader. You listen to this prattle and still look me in the eyes. It has to be hard. Everything is hard. This is hard. And I have no idea what to do. 

Probably just stare at the sun and see if I go fucking blind. Have a great day, and tell someone you love them today. Just put it out there and let it soak in.

I’ll go first.

I love you. For cereals. Now watch me fade away.

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