Yesterday was strange for some weird reasons — I’m writing this the next day. I just miss you. You wrote me quite a bit of messages yesterday. I was a bit surprised. Did you you miss me? I missed you… I am kinda realising that I need to be less stuck on things and people. I get too into things and then, as Chinua Achebe says, “Things fall apart”. I’m afraid things will fall apart. I know I need to just keep going, but it’s been hard.

I’ve been listening to “The Fade Out Line” by Phoebe Killdeer, it seems to be talking about fading away into emptiness, being gone, before actually being gone. This has lately been on my mind, fading away, not being present, not wanting to be present.

Caring for you has reminded me of the times I cared deeply for someone else, and the “exquisite sensations” I felt (as you might say, with the beautiful words you always find), when being with her. I am both terrified and incredibly happy that I’ll feel the same for you when you come. I already do, if I’m honest with myself. I’m also terrified of all the things that come along with this — the fear of rejection, the fear of losing you, the fear that once you are gone I’ll have this huge hole in my heart. I can already see myself looking elsewhere, trying to make sure that I won’t be completely and utterly alone when you are gone. It’s a self-defeating behaviour, but I’m not sure I can fix it. This reminds me of the speech from Fleabag:

Love is awful. It’s awful. It’s painful. It’s frightening. It makes you doubt yourself, judge yourself, distance yourself from the other people in your life. It makes you selfish. It makes you creepy, makes you obsessed with your hair, makes you cruel, makes you say and do things you never thought you would do. It’s all any of us want, and it’s hell when we get there.

I’d add that it’s not just hell when we get there — it’s hell on the way there. And indeed, as the Fleabag quote continues — love really is hope. The hope to be understood, the hope to understand the other.

Today I’d tell you about my bag I almost lost while having a beer with my colleague. I always lose things, and while I often find them again, I feel so bad that I do. In these moment, I really would love to cuddle up to you and get some hugs to feel less bad about myself. I also thought a lot about you today — yesterday we had a WhatsApp conversation about having sex and it was so nice but also a bit enigmatic. The way you expressed yourself, looking forward to “experiencing you again” — it can be read in this really beautiful way, where you think of me and our time as something beautiful that you want again. And it can be looked as something that one experiences, without really being part of, like eating a candy. I know you almost certainly meant it in the first way, but my mind can’t stop thinking about what if you meant it in the second way.

I wanna have you in my arms and just hold you and be afraid of saying things that matter. It’s so hard. I wanna say some beautiful things, but at the same time, words are just words, they can only go so far. To really make a difference, we need actions and time. I wanna have so much time with you. I was talking with someone here about British letterboxes (maybe I’ll get to show you the funny book I have on them), and it reminded me that I could just fly to London. We could go around together, we could be together. I am not sure how well you’d take this idea. But being with you would make me so happy. Fuck, I really miss being happy. I am so looking forward to seeing you. It will be a time full of wonder and beauty. I wanna be next to you and just hear your mind wonder. Miss you, Amber. I miss you.