I don't want your love letters. I don't want your words of adoration from afar. I don't want you to peer into my life through the distorted lens of social media or my fb posts. I don't want my emotions swept around like papers in a tornado. I don't want the pining, the delight, the soul crushing insecurity or the fresh delight of falling in love. Fresh winter snow - all possibilities, not the inevitable black slush of New York streets.
I don't want the crush. The drug of limerance, goblin fruit so sweet. I don't want the delights of exploring a new body, a new body exploring mine. I don't want the sweet anticipation. The surrender. The exhaustion.
I don't want to create deep connections over emails sent late at night. Or to share my favorite youtube videos on my couch, or lyrics or our favorite bands from high school - or to tell you which bands you should check out because you were in high school in another place/time. I don't want the (false) script of relationship to run in my mind. I don't want to kiss you on the beach in South America, a business class hotel, under a tree in my favorite place in Los Angeles or at my front door when you say goodbye after a night or three.
I'm not afraid of love. I love love. My capacity for love is bigger than ever and the ways in which I love have increased. I just don't have time for the emotional rollercoaster. The high, the plateau and the inevitable slide into despair. No jauntes for me, please. I've had enough. Love tears me apart. And I've just put myself back together, thank you very much.
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