I want to talk about the TTHM. How this month has gone. How I still get that weird feeling in my stomach when I think about him. How sometimes he makes me so angry I can’t even speak. How he challenges me everyday. I want to tell you how it makes me feel that he rides me about writing. How he encourages me without really meaning to.
I want to talk about all my bad habits and how I pissed him off. I want to talk about how difficult it is not to fall into the same trap I fell in with chuck and junior and the outlaw. I want to tell you how hard it is for me to beat down those habits, how I’m trying to banish the word unlovable from my vocabulary.
I want to talk about showing and not telling. I want to talk about being afraid. I want to talk about being frustrated and unsure. I want to talk about attraction and waiting.
I want to relate to you the tale of coming out to my co-workers. How they understand not saying anything right away. How they agreed that it probably isn’t time yet to tell my family. They agreed. How they pushed aside the age difference and how they smiled at me when I talked about him and plants and bugs.
But the words are getting stuck somewhere between my brain and my fingers. I’ve tried a dozen times to unstick them, it’s not working. There’s just too much inside, and I kept it there too long. Now it’s all stuck together and I haven’t been able to jar it loose yet.
Sometimes it’s better to let it all out in a mess than to try to separate the feelings.
Say something incoherant, even gibberish; Say something. Don’t try to accurately and succintly describe your feelings, just let him know you’re FEELING in general.
Of course, you already have, you’ve already said it to us, to him, to the whole world.
But tell him in person, tell him every emotion, and let him know he’s the impetus; The driving force behind this surge of feelings.
They don’t need to be defined to be valid. I give you the freedom to babble incessantly. Then tickle him…
It works…