o meu peito arde, todas as vezes que você não alcança a minha poesia, quando o seu olhar é raso e você só entende o que pode tocar, sem perceber que eu sou intangível. quando falta tato do lado de dentro e você não se permite expandir e ir além da superfície e você não se dá conta do tamanho das coisas que estão entranhadas por baixo da minha pele, me corroendo como um corte em carne viva. então eu sinto como se tudo ao meu redor fosse finito mas eu nunca sei onde eu termino e choro porque viver as vezes me exige muito e me dói inteirinha da cabeça aos pés. algo em mim lamenta, soluça e se contorce porque talvez você não compreenda a profundidade do afeto e da fúria que tomam o meu ser. talvez aqui dentro o mundo seja ainda mais imenso que no mapa geográfico e as minhas extremidades sejam quase que inalcançáveis até mesmo pro teu toque tão ameno.
(eu tenho medo que o meu amor faça você desmoronar)
We accept gods that don’t speak to us. We accept gods that would place us in a world filled with injustices and do nothing as we struggle. It’s easier than accepting that there’s nothing out there at all, and that, in our darkest moments, we are truly alone.
You want to know what I hate?
I hate that it’s only ever really considered appropriate to sit next to my TC if it’s a last resort.
I hate that I have to make sure all my words were chosen carefully, because any indication of otherwise could bring trouble to everyone, no matter how innocent.
I hate that accidentally brushing against my TC feels like something could change.
I hate that any idication of some connection beyond class has to be closely checked because it could be more than just friendly communication between a student and a teacher.
I hate that the system has taught people that contact in any way beyond necessary is wrong, because forming close relationships with a teacher is considered wrong, even if it’s only platonic.
You’ll be leaving in a few days and I don’t think I’ll ever see you again. I couldn’t say some things the last time I saw you. So I’ll write them to you. Thank you for taking me out of that trap. You taught me how to enjoy and relax again. Thank you for your company. You always knew how to keep the conversation going.
I thought we had something going. Did you? I know it seems like I didn’t care, but it is only because I couldn’t hold you back. The last time I kissed you, I knew it was going to be our last. There were promises that you had to keep, there were people you needed to end on good terms with, and there was me, selfless and naive. Truth is I wanted you all to myself. I wanted us to become a real thing. I don’t think anyone understands what we had because it was kept on the down low, but we both knew our connection was strong. Maybe it just wasn’t strong enough.
At the end of it, it was a good thing that we ended things early. I couldn’t keep pretending that I could simply forget about you by the end of June, when you were leaving. Although my feelings for you have faded, they are still here. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way anymore. I missed my chance, but I hope you know that I was holding myself back to let you be free. Maybe I made a mistake, but just know that I truly admire you. From your hardworking skills, your nerdy interest in World War II, your achievements, to your ability to make me laugh, I am thankful I got to know a guy like you.
You’ll always be my b, no one else can replace that. Good luck cadet. Serve our country with honor. Maybe I’ll see you by the end of the year. Don’t forget about me. I hope you liked me as much as I liked you. Like in Dear John, write me letters. “It’s a full moon here tonight, which makes me think of you. Because, I know that no matter what I am doing or where I am, this moon will always be the same size as yours, half a world away.”