Anneli Xie
2019/03/09
2019/03/09
tags:
#diary
#diary
nionde mars 20:25 2019
it’s been a while since I wrote purely and carelessly, recklessly and fiercely. I miss that sort of writing more than I miss most things in life and I am hoping it will once again come back to me. some day soon, maybe. I’d like to think that writing isn’t something that I can seek out but something that needs to come to me. and I guess that’s why I’ll have writer’s block forever.
it’s march (already). in eleven days I’m going to be on a plane on my way home, home to aleksander’s warmth and leia’s sniffing. I can’t wait. it’s only been a little more than a month since I came back to the US – six weeks, maybe? – but it feels like a lifetime. & every time someone asks me about next semester I can’t help but let out a relieved sigh. the idea of being close to aleksander for half a year feels like a blessing. I need it more than I need anything,
and maybe that’s becoming a problem, too?
/
loving is hard because I can only love deeply. in my phone notes one night I scribble down: “I wonder if this is what love is? to give yourself away so fully that you can no longer spare anything of yourself for yourself.”
that is really how love feels; intensely and viciously so.
I no longer write because everything that needs to be written is said. words no longer exist in long locked word documents but somewhere tucked in the back of aleksander’s mind (or at least so I’d like to think). why would I repeat myself when life is just a repetition of itself anyway? and why would I not share my feelings with someone else? someone who is my whole world (and whose world I want to become)
the only future I see is one with him ;
so what about my dreams and aspirations? what about the drive that brought me to the US in the first place? give it all up for a boy? is this what life is and is supposed to be? I want to do great things, I want to create and manifest-ate. I want to live fully and hopelessly so and maybe this is what this is or maybe it’s not I don’t know if I don’t try (I guess).
so for now it all feels worth it. he is me and I am him and I keep repeating that to myself as a mantra. he is me and I am him and we are not complete without each other. he is in me and I am in him and that is the way things are and such is life. such is life.
it’s march (already). in eleven days I’m going to be on a plane on my way home, home to aleksander’s warmth and leia’s sniffing. I can’t wait. it’s only been a little more than a month since I came back to the US – six weeks, maybe? – but it feels like a lifetime. & every time someone asks me about next semester I can’t help but let out a relieved sigh. the idea of being close to aleksander for half a year feels like a blessing. I need it more than I need anything,
and maybe that’s becoming a problem, too?
/
loving is hard because I can only love deeply. in my phone notes one night I scribble down: “I wonder if this is what love is? to give yourself away so fully that you can no longer spare anything of yourself for yourself.”
that is really how love feels; intensely and viciously so.
I no longer write because everything that needs to be written is said. words no longer exist in long locked word documents but somewhere tucked in the back of aleksander’s mind (or at least so I’d like to think). why would I repeat myself when life is just a repetition of itself anyway? and why would I not share my feelings with someone else? someone who is my whole world (and whose world I want to become)
the only future I see is one with him ;
so what about my dreams and aspirations? what about the drive that brought me to the US in the first place? give it all up for a boy? is this what life is and is supposed to be? I want to do great things, I want to create and manifest-ate. I want to live fully and hopelessly so and maybe this is what this is or maybe it’s not I don’t know if I don’t try (I guess).
so for now it all feels worth it. he is me and I am him and I keep repeating that to myself as a mantra. he is me and I am him and we are not complete without each other. he is in me and I am in him and that is the way things are and such is life. such is life.