End Results

I haven't been writing lately. I am not sure if it's because I have no idea how to put my feeling into words, or that I have too much to say at one given moment, and the page turns up blank.

So, I am going to try and write as best I can, for how much I am forcing this entry.

I'd like to first of start by saying, I didn't know it was possible to have such deep nostalgia for a place I've never been to.

 For streets I've never walked down, and lights out side the window I've never looked out of.
Will I always have nostalgia, melancholia, of a place you are at without me?
Is that how souls work?
Once connected to another, do they always notice, or particularly, point out the absence of the other?


And another thing- I have a hard time saying soul. I think, there are so many, too many, definitions of what a soul can be.
For me, I always wobble on a accurate definition for myself.
But right now, the best I can explain a soul, would be a energy, almost like your most natural state of nature.
When I think of souls..
I think of light, which I can only can describe as white Christmas lights-when you look at them from really far away, and it almost consumes the entire house, or tree, with that pure, glob of creamy crystal light.
 I think of truth in it's purest form. Knowing someone, or something for exactly who, or what they are, and accepting that.
I think of being five years old, and running as fast as I can, and then, I swear on my favorite Bewitched tin lunch box that the wind helped pick me up.
I think of that wind. The wind that first taught me the feeling of flying.
So, my Christmas tree glob soul connected to yours.
How wonderful, since you are, 2215 miles away from me.

Secondly:
I lay in bed and think to myself.
If this stops. What in the hell am I going to do.
If this keeps going. What in the hell am I going to do.
I guess since I don't have some five year plan, everyone around me thinks I am sort of failure.
Because I have no idea what I want to do with my life. And, maybe, that makes me one.

There are only two things I know I want, and need.

The first thing is that, I want a beautiful life.
I want files, books and frames full of pictures from my life. Of anything, of everything.
My favorite spots in Utah, the people I meet at bus stations, faces you make, things that are so strange that always make you think for a little while.
I want journals full of entries and drawings of my young restless mind, about music, cinema and you.
I want my life to be filled with passion and long conversations.
I want to build a home that every wall and every corner, is the essence of  me and my life.
I want plants on the window seals, and drawings on the wall, books on the ground, a bed that smells like you, and has eight pillows.
I want to inspire others with my ideas, be it my photos, doodles, or words.
I want collections of lace ribbons, pins and buttons, and vintage spoon rings.
These things sound beautiful to me.

The second thing, is you. I know I want you.
I want you in my life, for always.
I want you at your best, and your worst.
I want your grumpy mornings, and lunch break phone calls.
I want your loud music at inconvenient hours, and you singing in the shower.

So, I'd lay there and wonder how in the world can I make a life plan with only two things.
And then I thought, maybe I only have two things, because they are suppose to combine with the numbers of your life plan.
Maybe.


It was February 29th  when you told me you wanted to live with me.
I thought you were joking, or just saying a want that you never planned on going through.
But no. You meant it.

I couldn't believe it. I still don't, sometimes.
Like, get real, kid.
My cooking is not that good.

I have this thing, it's like, a disease, where whenever something life changing happens to me, I always fast forward and think of the end result.
It doesn't mean I don't enjoy the day by day.
But the end result consumes my mind late at night, or in moments of frustration and panic.
And that's not a bad thing, but it's probably not a good thing either.


So, after you saying you want to live with me, after my first reactions of joy, excitement, and mental planning.
I start focusing on the end result.
Anyone who moves in together, winds up broken up, or married- right?
(That's my end result talking.)
Then it hit me.

We don't have to live by normal views of society.
We could live together for forty years without marrying each other.
We could break up, but still want to live together, as the best friends I know we are.
We could live together and get married in twenty five years.
We could break up, only to have me move down a few blocks away from you, and we'd have lunch, occasionally.

The point is- I am ignoring my end result thinking.
Because even if this never ends, or ends.
Right now, and for a lot of years after that, living with you, creating a life together, is everything I want.

I love you, best friend. I can't wait to see you.

P.S.
I forgot apple cores have star shapes in them. What a pleasant reminder.