Calculating love.

I’m thinking about Germany. And I’m listening to Destroyer. And it’s all the same. It’s all the same. This love that I feel, with a solid world to walk into in a dream state. I have a cold in July, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if I’m cold the day after tomorrow, with these visions I keep replaying. Where did you go when you rounded that corner? It doesn’t matter, you could’ve gone anywhere, you could have gone nowhere at all. You could have gotten stuck, like me. Stuck on a corner, stuck on a feeling, on a vision. What is there for us, if we don’t dare dream about it? And what’s a crush without a future? And what’s a memory? You could have taken it all; the love; the kiss; the monumental bliss. You could have demanded a ring, but you took nothing. Read about a disease that will kill you in an instant. My legs grew tingly, hands were shaking. In a book that was filled with so much life, a fall from grace, the death of his wife, and I cried. And I thought, What’s a book without a tear? And I would have torn it apart if someone had sold me some guts for a dollar fifty. Bought a shirt on sale after our rendezvous (I’m making too much of it, all I did was see you), but I haven’t worn it yet, not since I made sure it would fit me alright. I think I’m saving it for when I get to find all the things that will fit my life alright, and I will dress for the occasion, when I can celebrate having found all the pieces of the puzzle in my great equation. Calculating love. I’m calculating love when I let crushes walk by, and I judge whether something better will come along, whether I will get better as time comes along. Am I wrong? Am I wrong to hold out for the best there is, when I have no idea what that is? Am I just a wide-eyed kid with big dreams and too few hours of sleep? The only thing I know for certain is that I am blue-eyed, and tomorrow I will train my blue eyes on you, and we will sin. As we do when we’re alone. We will sin. Have you told him?

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