i wish i had known you in a different time in my life. not at this current moment where my head is consistently rotating, my shit is all over the place and i don't really know what i want to do with you. i wish we were twelve and you liked me because i was the only girl bold enough to kick you in the balls (literally) and say hello to you in the playground the next day. i wish we were twenty one and i somehow persuaded you to come to europe with me and we would spend month after month in each other's bed and each other's skin and each other's heads until finally one of us would be courageous to ask "is it time to go home now?" i wish we were nearing thirty, sitting in an apartment overlooking a monument of some sort. drinking red wine (something i never thought i'd do in my young age) and listening to frank sinatra. exhaling our success and inhaling each other's. you'd ask me to marry you and i laugh at your face but agree because things are somehow right and appropriate and i can't imagine loving someone as much as i do with you. i wish we were seventy eight reaching down to pat our faithful feline (something i'd never thought i'd do in my younger age) and holding onto each other as if we were lifelines. intertwined beneath silver locks, the smell of must and orthopedic loafers.
not now. not when i am nineteen and indecisive and still unaware of my exact purpose. not when i am as volatile as the next natural disaster to strike the earth. not now when i want you so much that the moment you disappear or say you love another is so mammoth it could potentially deflate the contents of my heart. not when i need to know Him first, myself second and you third. not when i can't even figure out when my last cigarette will be or the last time i ponder about the universe in its totality. not now.
love,
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