dear catastrophe,

by essayan hart

i think that was the name of an album. if not, it should be. we can write it together.
you are out of town and i am too proud, shy, afraid, insecure, and half in love to tell you that i miss you. im telling my secretsecret blog instead. i fucking miss you.
two hyperdefensive jaded hearts melting in the midday sun. we are quite a pair. stay, please. stay close to my heart.
i am good at giving love space, and i want you to trust that, to feel that. it has never been difficult. until now. i look forward to that moment i know, trust that you are in this completely. then maybe i will hear you singing your sweet freedom songs when you are far from me. you asked me what you could do, to convince me you are not going anywhere. i am hoping it is just a matter of patience. amazing, since i am usually so cocky, that i would spend a moment concerned.
you win. i dont know what youve won, but i am so. fucking. yours.

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