Today is the first time I’m writing you. If I was brave, I’d tell you that yesterday I was struggling with a lot of anxiety. I was doing my taxes and that always gives me anxiety. I wrote you an email the day before, it was what gave me the energy to sit down and do my tax returns. I think of you often. About what we could see together in Berlin, what kind of things I could give you as gifts. I think about what I would say when you leave, and how sad it would make me. And I also think about how amazing it will be to wake up next to you. How unreal it will feel. How happy you will make me. I also think of you as a real-life person, I want to make love to you, I want to hold you and make gentle love to you, and I want to have rough sex with you, and I want to touch and kiss you and I want to slap your amazing buttocks. I want to feel your warmth sitting next to me, and I want to show you all the things that I have collected over the years, all the objects and all the books, and I want to hear what you think of them. I wanna hear your beautiful voice while I hold your hand. Thinking of you makes me so happy.
Sometimes I wish you responded faster to my whatsapp messages, but I also know I can’t demand anything from you, and that when you do respond, it’s always something so beautiful, it’s always worth every minute of the wait.
I’m sitting at the airport now, trying to get to Z. for a conference. I’m really looking forward to taking pictures of Z. and sending them to you. It’ll be wonderful to share them with you, and it’s a great excuse to write you. I love writing you. I’d like to say I don’t know why… but… I do. You were magnificently lovely to me in D., so gentle and kind. I remember sitting at the very back, on the first day, and I just couldn’t stop thinking of you. I had all these feelings come to me. At first I was enjoying them, then I got terrified — what am I imagining? Why? I tried letting them go, but it didn’t work. They kept coming back to me. So then I decided to just let them… be. Just let them be there, with me. When you came knocking at my door, it was so good, like some kind of fairy tale. I miss lying next to you on that bed. It was a beautiful place to be.