Love letter to what I have lost:
You are my idea of perfection. You make me truly feel as if I have touched something pure and unperturbed by the obnoxious machinations of society. You indulge occasionally, granted, but that's to be expected; everyone wants to belong, and I know it can't be easy belonging to my world.
You are beautiful and somehow beyond the petty windfalls of fate, and that is why I know you will wait. I know very well how evil the scheme I'm perpetrating is: I'm gonna let you cling for a few extra months while I expend my typical early-twenties male virility on some dumb teenagers, then I'm going to come crawling back to you, worshiping you like the absolute goddess you are.
You are fucking amazing though, no-one could deny that. Even if I end up with someone your complete opposite, I'll always respect you as the ultimate personification of everything a man could want: intelligence, beauty, sex appeal, dignity, morals, ethics and mystery.
You are supreme. The human imagination would be hard-pressed to conjure your equal.
Love is a weak word to describe what it is I feel for you.
Hi Sindri,my english is not very well, sorry, but i wanna tell you that i enjoy reading your posts. I have a doubt ,answer only if you want, which is the political situation now in Iceland? I have read( spanish press) that this trying new things... thank you, and nice to meet you. -Guille-
ReplyDeletebeautiful piece of writing and i'm very glad it's public. makes me feel uh, more humble about my lost love...
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