I could write and write: these words, phrases, ideas, whatever you can call them. I could do so many things. I know I am not capable of some things. I will eventually die and my time spent on earth will be doing the things I know how. And I know how to love you. I know how to make feelings be the way in which I live life. I love you and I hope you know this. Well I’ve been unfaithful. And I know that bothers you. But what you don’t know, was when I was huddled close to a stranger’s body, one of foreign smells, a body I had never felt; I imagined you. I closed my eyes and decided to be with you. And the sensations I craved at that time were for you. I intoxicated myself with memories of you, trying to remember your lips on my lips, your hips grinding up against mine. I yearned for that soft neck you would give to me. And I was with you. When my eyes opened and I realized you had gone and all of this had been a trick, I waited. And when the time was right, I cried. I cried so hard for you. I even cried for myself. But most of all, I cried for ourselves. And when the times became harder, I abused my body. I took pills to sleep, pills to wake, pills to just take away this pain. I smoked things legal and things that parents say is now sociologically wrong, though years ago “toking” up was common. I saw my bloodshot eyes, blood from a cut seeing what pain was made of, and I came to a conclusion that this all has nothing to do with love. So now I try to wake up normally. I try to live on giving these feelings away, hoping, sometimes even praying, that by some chance or blessing from God they will land on your windowsill. You could look out one night, thinking of all that you’ve left behind, and there sitting next to you, would be my love. Angels would neatly package it, with a note saying ‘you’re loved so dearly.’ And our romance would be coveted. Those around would slither their bodies by us, tempting, and flaunting their unimportant existence. But you, as well as I would know that this love wouldn’t end. We all need the sun to live. But I could go without if I had you. I wouldn’t eat, I wouldn’t have that Vitamin D, but I would live the most pleasant life out of every human being. You. You are the sun to me. You give me everything that anyone could ever need. I want so much from you. And I hope you give me it all. I want to take you away. I want to place you on a blanket in a crisp night, and I want to be there. I want to see your dark hair and piercing eyes. I want to be there so bad with you right now. I want to make love and not have to fantasize anymore. I want us to grow and become more than what we are now. And when the time is right I want to pass all of this on to someone else, smaller, perhaps more cute, yet similar to you and I. I want the three of us to be together, like the father, son, and holy spirit. And if we decide, we would grow more. We would reach with our hands out to every land and we would pass on our love. It would catch like wildfire and no one would be able to tame it. We would break down societies of hate and injustice by our simple act on that cool, autumn night. Oh how I love you. It sounds so different each time. I love you. It sometimes makes me want to cry. I love you. And we’ll see each other soon. I love you. It’s not like this world is separate. I love you. Everything will be fine. I love you. Oh how I love you, like a Peter Frampton song I really do want to be with you night and day. We don’t have to cry anymore. We don’t have to act like this isn’t real. Our youth is our youth. And we’re that small percent that truly cares. We will work. You and I, hand and hand, holding each other’s heart. I love you and someday we’ll give in to those institutions. I love you. You’ll marry me and I’ll marry you. Because I love your love and you love mine, or perhaps it’s just fundamental that we love love. Estoy enviando mi amor a usted, mujer bella. Mi mujer que a mi es solamente la cosa que necesito. Usted eres todo, mi sol del este, mi corazon del oeste. Te Amo.