12:46 AM
I have kept journals
since the second grade,
so since I was 8 years
old. My favorite memory
was when I was 3...
my thoughts have always
been important to me.
I try to capture what
I am feeling as often
as possible. Not because
I am important, but
because I believe it is
the things we feel that
make every one equal.
Consciousness. For as long
as I have recognized
existence I have thought
about reality and the
idea of the connectedness
of my birth and death.
When I wrote in my diary
in the fourth grade I
could feel the ink fall
out of my pen now. It
is an invisible line,
but it is straight
and it has happened and
will happen because
it is happening.
Clay,
In an abstract way,
you are the journal
I’ve kept for 27 years.
You are my inner thoughts
and greatest desire.
My wants, losses,
pride, triumphs,
secrets, stories, lists,
shame, humiliations,
funny asides... they
are all you
the person
I was writing to.
You are everything
I never knew and
did not understand
I can pretend to be fearless
of the unknown because I
know your skin will
explain it to me in
time. I know your
words will describe
it to me as you retell
your stories of highs
and lows. I know that
every moment we have
with each other from
here on out is a piece
of each of our pasts
come together with
both of our futures
to make love known.
We are lucky.
We won the lottery.
This does not happen to
every body.
Dear Clay,
This is the part where
everything is the same,
just different. I love
you.
I am yours.
