There is a
very handsome man very far away who is very intent on marrying me. This
handsome man wants me to cook his meals and wash his dishes while believing
enough in my moral fiber to both bear and raise his children.
There is a
very handsome man willing to bear fucking only me until he dies—and waking next
to me for a lifetime later. There is a man so very far away that he remains
ignorant of my mood swings. This man is so far away from any real dynamic in my
reality that he does not know the obsessions I have with my skin, sandwiches,
or David Bowie. He has no way of being made aware of these things.
This man is
too far away to know why I may get up from a seemingly innocuous dinner table
in tears, or why I eat chocolate and yell only at the beginning of each
month. Yet, this man wishes that our sable hairs turn to white alongside one
another. He believes in an ‘us’. I envy his idealism and his belief in us. I
couldn’t want any of the things he
wants—not even with someone I loved, whoever he may be.