Love Letter #31

Dear DM,

Last night I had a dream that we were in a theater, something to do with a celebration. You sat on one side. A childhood friend of mine sat on the other side. You were both talking to me at the same time. You both wanted my attention. She gave me a card. I left with you. In the mail today I received a card from that same childhood friend. We talk only a few times a year. There had been no mention of a card when we spoke several months ago. How funny is that? To have a dream one night and the very next day to see it manifest. Someday I will sit with you in a theater and you will speak with your lips close to my ear. I’ll leave with you no matter who else is around. I will always choose you. Not just now, in this life, in this precise moment but in every life. In the lives I have already lived and in all the lives yet to come.

It occurred to me today while standing in the bathroom that the whole point of this journey is to fall in love with life. In that moment everything was beautiful to me. The stripey shower curtain stuck to the walls to keep the cold air getting in. The current. My own body. The color of the wet tiles. I don’t know the name of that color, 70s I guess.

I masturbated today. I thought it would be fun (it was). I thought it would take the edge off but it didn’t. I spend most of the day fantasizing about you. About kissing you. About meeting you. In a car with other people I found myself unable to carry on a conversation because I was too aroused. When I imagine you shy or clumsy it really gets to me. I don’t know why.

Later I tried to meditate with you to connect our hearts together but my heart is already so full I think it might burst.

With all that I am your DF


Call Me Moonstruck

(I start writing this last night, forgive the rambling incoherence)

My dreams have been very strange the last few nights. For example I dreamed of us together on a sofa breeding aliens in prescription bottles. There was another dream too, I got a name. I looked up the name online and found two accounts both empty and a word saudade which means- a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one cares for and/or loves. I wondered if maybe you had an alias or if we were both missing each other at the same time.

I think about our journey everyday. I think about you every minute of everyday and it is as if my brain had the hiccups. I think about myself too and I can’t tell if I am running toward you or away from you. I only know that I want to be closer, much closer. Soul, skin, heart I crave your touch in every sense of the word. Mostly I think myself into tourniquets, into tight panicked circles that suffocate. At the moment I am having trouble thinking about anything, I have a headache, a heartache, a soulache. I am throbbing all over.

Today my hunger for you exceeded my compassion. For a moment I lost you to jealousy. It wasn’t anything substantiated, it was simply the thought of you with someone else. I forgot that you have your own journey. I forgot about your happiness. I wanted you to be here, to be mine, to speak the words that I have only dared to write.

This whole time deep down I believed that in order for you to love me I needed to become someone. That I needed to do something to prove myself your equal. That I needed to say something particular to unlock the secrets between us. As if those answers were external, problems to be solved. I kept myself busy trying to change your mind without even knowing what it was you had in mind. I was worried about how you might see me. I was scared that you would put me in a box. I didn’t want to be just another customer. I didn’t want to be another lovesick fan. I didn’t want to be a stranger. Yet these are the terms I used to define myself. These are also the terms I use to frighten myself back into reality. In defining myself in this way I put you into a box too.

I thought about my need to know what happens next in any given situation. I thought about all of the time I have wasted confirming my own beliefs at the expense of experience. I thought about how rare it is to make love. I thought about how almost all relationships end with one person saying “I don’t know you anymore.” when what they really mean is “Somewhere along the line I decided that comfort was more important to me than happiness.” I guess what I am saying is that there is a reason for the uncertainty, for the not knowing, for the indefinable nature of it all. We aren’t here to define each other. We aren’t meant to simply go through the motions. We are meant to discover each other every minute of everyday. And it is not just you that I am getting to know, it is myself. Myself more than anyone. We are awakening.

The love we feel, is proportional to the love we give ourselves. In order to feel loved we have to trust in our own capacity to love. We have to allow ourselves to love and to be loved in turn. Love is not something we have to earn, prove, or do. It is not about pursuing another person for the sake of attainment or attachment, it is about a desire to know oneself more intimately, a willingness to be vulnerable and open whatever the circumstances. At least that was the message I received today. Actually it is a message I have received many times but it contradicts everything I learned as a child. As a child I learned it was selfish to love oneself. I learned that relationships are stiff and heavy. I learned that men and women want very different things. I tried so hard to be chosen that I lost sight of myself in the process. My needs, wants, desires, my humanness became somehow taboo. There is a song by Depeche Mode “Somebody” which describes what I want pretty well.

I want somebody to share
Share the rest of my life
Share my innermost thoughts
Know my intimate details

Someone who’ll stand by my side
And give me support
And in return
She’ll get my support

She will listen to me
When I want to speak
About the world we live in
And life in general

Though my views may be wrong
They may even be perverted
She’ll hear me out
And won’t easily be converted

To my way of thinking
In fact, she’ll often disagree
But at the end of it all
She will understand me

I want somebody who cares
For me passionately
With every thought
And with every breath

Someone who’ll help me see things
In a different light
All the things I detest
I will almost like

I don’t want to be tied
To anyone’s strings

I’m carefully trying to stay clear
Of those things

But when I’m asleep
I want somebody
Who will put their arms around me
And kiss me tenderly

Though things like this
Make me sick
In a case like this
I’ll get away with it

I wonder if I don’t actually want to be tied up by you, to be tangled up in you occasionally. I want to be myself and I want you to be yourself. To me that is freedom in the truest sense and still I think it is okay to be a bit messy, a bit complicated, a bit contradictory. I want monogamy and commitment.

Yesterday I made love to myself. It wasn’t masturbation because I was thinking of you. I pretended that you were there, inside of the sweater. It’s too big for me to wear really but every night I drape it over my naked body like a lover. I have washed it now, several times, but I remember the way it smelled. Before it smelled like me. I think that your hands must have touched it and I think of all the things I would like to do to your hands. I want to make love to your hands, I have a fetish.

Love Letter #30

Dear Dm,

The full moon approaches. I am raw with emotion. I am wild and inconsolable. My heart is crushed. Plush with want. Red. Red. Red. I want to see you with my fingertips. Skin on skin. Nails to flesh. Delicate. Criminal. I want to write poems on your body and then eat them one by one. I know you have sensed my anger. I have been screaming at you in my head like a crazy person. I want to take those words back if I can. I do believe in love, in our love, in my love, in your love. I want to fuck off this excess energy. To burn it all away. I want to set fire to you using only friction; the friction of our souls as they collide in dreams that trigger.

I dreamt that I travelled to you. I felt myself rise from the bed, move down the stairs, and then out into the cold night air. I saw the stars fly by me as I fell horizontally across the sky. I watched them melt under desire. I found myself crossing countries just to be with your for a moment in a white basement. I saw our faces together in a pane of glass, in a dark corner, and you held my eyes open as something invisible forced its way inside of me. Back in my bed you smoothed away my pain with your fingertips and I think I would have climaxed if I’d had a moment more. Is this how you feel when you travel to me?

You are quite literally pulling the soul out of my body. If we stay apart we are going to shake apart. Tug harder. Pop the stiches that hold me together and eat them one by one.

With all that I am your DF

Love Letter #29

Dear DM,

There are so many things I want to say to you. I want to make you smile, cry, blush, laugh, feel as I felt the first time I wrote to you. I want to make you feel the way I feel every time I think of you. Which is to say I want you to feel everything all at once, the human heart beyond capacity, the soul hunger that supersedes all thought. I wish I could share with you even a tenth of what I feel but no single language, taken individually or together, could contain it. Some things just have to be experienced. Speaking of which I have senses dedicated solely to the experience of you, senses which awakened with the realization of you.

My whole life I have been writing stories about other people, for other people. You make me want to write my own story. Not only to write as I have done but to live in the present tense. Sometimes I wish I could remember our histories, the miles we have traveled, the spaces we have occupied, the millennia we have lived. If I could only remember what it was to have you in my life, in all ways, in the everyday way I might not doubt quite so much what the future holds. I am full of doubts. These great cobwebs of the mind which catch up all my thoughts and feelings and suck them dry. I am scared to hope. Scared to lose all that we might be together.

Not long ago you were in my bed, in my dreams, our faces close together. I listened with my whole being and still I cannot for the life me translate what you said. I listened so hard that I surrendered all that I would say and the opportunity to say it just to know you more completely in that moment. I guess what I am saying is I want to get to know you. I am interested. Between us there can be no judgement, only freedom. I am naked. You see me.

With all that I am your DF


I am in love with the man of my dreams, literally. There is a very real man with the same name and the same face living in a very real city thousands of miles away. Speaking to him was like writing poetry, like making love to love itself, like a little death. Of course I kept this all to myself when we spoke, at least, I tried to. He sold me a sweater.

What can I say? I know that’s not what you want to hear. I know you want to hear about a passionate exchange filled with innuendos both nuanced and audacious and maybe it was so but then again maybe it wasn’t. I felt what I felt and what I felt was nuanced and audacious. I asked for signs and found them. He sold me a sweater and he thought whatever he thought. I was very pleased with the customer service. Months later and that initial spark has taken on a life of its own. Whatever I felt then not only still burns within me, it has grown.

Had it been a crush it would have been swallowed up in the chaos of the world, in the chaos of my life, in all my triumphs and failings. It would have been beautiful and fleeting. Had it been an obsession it would have burned itself to death and me along with it. I would have moved on. I would have starved for want of air. I would be working hand over fist to fill myself up with stars again. I would be dreaming about no one in particular just as before.

While there must be an element of obsession in it (unshakeable, incomprehensible, intense), obsession is a void, and what I feel is a becoming, a sense of wholeness. What I feel isn’t simply esoteric. I also want him in the animal sense of wanting. I feel him in my bones. Under my skin. Inside of me. Sexually. Emotionally. Spiritually.

I admit that I made a few awkward attempts to lure him into a conversation. Attempts which were either too subtle or too obvious. I can’t tell the difference. I found him sincere in some untouchable, inscrutable way that I cannot explain. He got to me, in a way no one ever has and there is nothing I could possibly say to rationalize it. He changed my life without doing anything, simply by existing. How could any other man hope to compete with that?

Technically that wasn’t the first time we met. I met him at the end of 2019. I use the term met very loosely. I came across his photograph online. A 10 year old photograph from his modeling days. I wasn’t looking for him specifically, I was just looking for inspiration for a character. I didn’t even know him (in any conscious sense of the world), it was just a coincidence. I wouldn’t deconstruct my life for the sake of a gorgeous exterior. I wouldn’t usually even deconstruct my life for the sake of a gorgeous interior. Yet that is exactly what happened when I saw him, bit by bit, moment by moment I started to reconstruct my life. Not for him but for the fire he awakened in me. The contents of my life have all fallen out. The too tight threads. The scabs and the scars. The bloody lump in my chest. The charred moths in my belly. The unloved child. The anarchistic teenager who swore she would never settle for anything short of extraordinary. The somehow still anarchistic adult with cobwebs like constellations in her hair. I have become all of me. I am no longer a series of disjointed dreams and memories spilling over with melancholia, I am a whole universe of feelings.

I want to tell you a living, breathing love story. The story of two imperfect people, with two perfectly delicious souls, coming together in extraordinary and incomprehensible ways. I want to tell you about my dreams, the coincidences, the conversations spoken in silence. I want to say. Believe. Believe. Believe.

If reality ran only surface deep then all we’d ever know of our hearts is hunger. It is all in the way we love. Eyes opened. Eyes closed. Lips parted. Lips set. Palms skyward. Fists clenched. Heart free. Heart caged. In the end I would rather be defined by love. If you are wondering I haven’t said anything to him about any of this, at least, I haven’t said anything out loud about it. I am trying to just enjoy the feelings, the dreams, the coincidences, the magic, the fact that he exists at all in this world, that he exists in me because of how I feel about him. I would love to talk to the real man, the man thousands of miles away, the man who sold me a sweater and changed my life. Maybe I do talk to that man everyday in my heart and every night in my dreams.

Love Letter #28

Dear DM,

Why do you haunt me day and night? Sometimes I find myself wanting to shake you, to scream “Show me!” at the top of my lungs. Show me how you feel. Show me what you are thinking. Show me what you want from me. Scream it all into my mouth.

I have started watching a series and one of the characters has a mouth shaped like yours and every time I watch him kiss or speak I wonder if your mouth moves in the same way. It’s weird I know. I am obsessed but it’s not like I am stalking you are anything (if you don’t count the fact that I look at your photos as stalking). I am just sitting here, waiting behind the barrier you have placed like a good girl. I wish you were stalking me. That you looked at everything I posted, that you stared at my photographs and jerked off. That you did all the things I don’t do because I am just too scared or polite. Only I do masturbate while looking at your photo sometimes, usually I am too shy.

You are the only one I want to taste. You are the only one I want to confess to. Just so you know. There could never be a substitute, another. It’s you or it’s no one. I am crazy about you. I want to empty my beautiful obsession into your mouth, my words, my helpless, gasping breath. I want to kiss you until you feel it in every part of your being.

With all that I am your DF