You are a brilliant virus caught inside of me. Invisible origin. Glow worms in the amethyst caves.
My brain paints our disconnected limbs–tied in the way ivy struggles for sunlight.
Listen to me carefully:
I am the sound of close orbit, and you are my collision.
Sadness is familiar. It is a constant of the human experience. Happiness, however, is always new as it comes.
I sit across from Anna at the Griddle. It is raining endlessly.
Anna is from Frankfurt. She is a singer, songwriter. Last night, in a quiet drunkenness, she sang us German song. Everybody listened. The room glowed a soft orange.
She looks at her phone, and sighs. I’m just taking the last bite of a breakfast burrito.
Alexei’s going to be there, too. Are you sure you didn’t want to come to the cinema?
Frowning, she looks out into the gray streets.
You don’t want to be a third wheel, right. I look at her.
It’s not that. I just really want people to like me. Especially when I think they’re so cool and talented… I always think, “No, they’ll never like you. Why would they ever be interested in you?” Even when I don’t even know what is truly in their heads, even though they might actually like me, I still think, no way, it’s impossible. I always get like this, when I fall in love.
Her face is cast downwards at her empty plate, the curls on her head falling forward. Everything is quiet for a moment. I think about how many times I’ve felt that way about the people I have fallen in love with. I think about the smouldering pain of longing to be closer to someone you admire.
Heart At Bay 