“Love is hard.”
“It’s hard?”
“Yes it’s hard.”
“I don’t think so at all, I think it’s very simple actually.”
“Must be a cultural difference then.”
“Maybe it’s just a personal one.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I think love could be easy for you if you let it be.”
“I doubt it. I really really doubt it.”
“Well what makes it so hard then?”
“It requires so much work, and there is no guarantee it will ever be returned. You can be betrayed by someone you have known for years, at any moment, and then all those years of supposed ‘love’ will mean nothing.”
“Why would it mean nothing? You still experienced that love did you not? I think feeling love for any duration is lovely.”
“It’s not so lovely when it ends though is it?”
“Perhaps not, but isn’t it good to know that your heart can feel so full?”
“Only for it to be emptied once it shatters again.”
“But you can put those pieces back together can’t you? And fill it back up again while you’re at it. Perhaps it will even be better the second time.”
“After your heart is broken like that, there is no second time.”
“Are you saying you can only ever love one person? Can only ever love once? What about all the friendships you’ve made and all the people you’ve met?”
“Was that really love at all, or was it just a waste of time?”
“I think love can never be a waste. I think love is something that should never be regretted. It’s an indication of your capacity to feel and to give. It’s not a test of time or a measure of importance. I think love just is. I think love exists as itself and nothing else.”
“Well maybe we just need to agree to disagree.”
“Perhaps we will always disagree, but I have never regretted the love I have given. And just so you know, I’ve given quite a bit of my love to you as well. I’ll never regret loving you, even if one day you regret that I did.”
“Oh, well yes, I guess we will have to agree to disagree.”
I remember my childhood home and wonder if I ever felt like a child while I lived there
Or if the house itself held more innocence than I did
I wonder if I was pretending so thoroughly to enjoy playing with dolls
That I never noticed my playtime’s didn’t have any dialogue
And were instead filled with the silence of someone
Who never learned how to play with toys at all
The first time I held you in my arms,
was an innocent hug meant to comfort a friend.
I did not know that feeling you against me would change my life forever.
Though I loved the warmth of you, I could not linger in your embrace.
The second time, we grasped each other desperately as we shared our love
This time I could finally hold you longer, and let the heat of your skin soak into my bones as I turned to you like a flower in the sun.
The third time, I held you so tight I could feel your flesh go taught in the harsh grip of my hands, but you did not hold me with the same ferocity.
Your hands did not explore my back, your chin did not poke insistently on my shoulder, your chest did not beat against mine.
I knew I would never feel your warmth again, as I looked into your eyes and only saw the emptiness of death.
The second time I meant to last it out and not come back at all.
Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep.
What now could slow the drop? All I’d give for toes to touch the safety back at top
And through thick woods one finds a stream astray, so secret that the very sky seems small. I think I will not hang myself today
In order: Lady Lazarus by Sylvia Plath Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep by Mary Elizabeth Frye The View From Halfway Down by Philomena (written for Bojack Horseman) A Ballade of Suicide by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
I feel the vile rise in my throat as I look at you. She’s with you, you’re with her. My thoughts are consumed by your every move, at the corner of my eye I always find you. My hands shake as I wait and wait for a message from you. there is no other person I will respond to. My friends want to know if I’d like some coffee, I don’t bother replying, I’m only looking for your name on my screen. My heart hammers everytime I steal a glance and I can’t contain that feeling. I wake up hours early to meticulously draw on my eyeliner. Will you ever notice? Do you care about those things? She wears eyeliner you know each day we don’t speak I find my mind slowly slipping. What will I do without you? What is the point of existing? Why should I sleep when you’re not next to me? Why should I eat when she is so much thinner? Why should I speak if my words aren’t directed towards you? Why should I live if you are not mine? This crush will consume me from the inside, it’s all I can find time for when a week ago I didn’t know your name. But now I do know your name. It is written in the crevices of my mind, and on the blank pages in my notebook, and it’s written on the empty spaces on my wall, it’s written on my skin and I can feel you on me always.
I make my coffee black every morning. Maybe today I’ll add some cream. I gulp it down and go to work, my usual daily routine.
After work I make myself dinner, which is one of my, like, three recipes. I watch a rerun of Jeapordy, they yell ‘Winner!’ as I eat in front of my TV.
I’ve seen this one before, so I’m not really surprised, that the winner is that dude Jacob, or Mike? I dont know, it’s some guy.
I wash the only plate and pot in the sink, since I always eat alone. It’s not like I’m depressed or something, It’s just that I live on my own.
I collapse onto my bed; finally! This day is fucking over. I try not to relax, or grin too happily, I’ll do this again tomorrow, in the same order.
Deep down, you’re really shallow. You’re the beginning of my end. I was full of the feeling; hallow. My greatest enemy, my closest friend. You were cruel for being kind to me You were so sweet, but left me bitter. I’d go back and end the start of ‘we’ You made me bloom so I could wither
Darling,
I wish you could see my side of things. The nights have been colder without you by my side. The warm coffee I make in the morning doesn’t taste as good when I don’t have you to share it with. You know I make it sweeter just for you, even though I like mines bitter. We can get through this, we are meant to be, don’t you agree? Don’t you miss me the way I miss you?
please respond my dearest.
Milena
——
Milena,
Please do not patronize me with your sweet words. Love is such a complicated thing after all. You can feel many things alongside love. Right now I feel anger with you. Although, love, I feel just as cold without you. I do not want to waste my ink on rude words to you, Sweet Milena, but I am finding it hard to find any other words.
Amara
——
Amara Darling,
Do not resent me please! It is the only thing I beg of you. I know it was wrong to tell my family about us. They do not understand our love. A woman with another woman is unheard. As you know, they have cut contact with me. I know this is what has upset you my sweetheart, but there is something you must understand. My love for you is worth every second of ridicule I have endured from my family. If I never see them again, I would still shed tears of joy waking up to you in the morning. Amara please! Do not care about these foolish insecurities. I am not upset! I am not missing my relatives at all! The only person I am missing is you. How will I live if I cannot caress your supple skin once more.
Milena
——
Milena,
If you really mean these things- if you really feel no sorrow at the loss of your family- then all I can say is that this dedication from you is something I do not deserve. Do you truly only need me in this world? I know that I have no room in my heart for any other. Do you think we could spend our lives together? Pretend to be widows in a far away town where nobody would bother us? Milena please say that you only need me in your life. Please let me fulfill my selfish desires. The love I feel for you is not that of sisterly love as you well know. If you respond to this letter of mine, willing to leave everything behind with me, my sweet summer lily, then by morning of after-morrow, I will ride to you in a carriage and we will leave together.
Amara
——
My one true love Amara,
I will pack my things at once. We will live together in a cottage somewhere, I don’t care where! We do not need to feel strangeness at our affections. We will wake up together every day the sun rises. One day women like us shan’t need to hide. One day women like us will share our love openly. You may think me naive but I believe this desperately. As for now, When I hear the hooves of your lovely white horse coming my way, I shall meet you at the door, and we shall live together like lovers. We shall share a home and our lives just like any other dedicated couple. We shall share our futures, and we shall share the gasps and stolen breaths between our lips when I finally kiss you.
Milena . . . .
