Letters to June, #22

Dear June,

I have a secret. I haven’t written new poetry since the beginning of last year. Or maybe the ending of last last year. I know June, why haven’t I not written anything?

Well, I think it’s because I don’t know how to write poetry when I’m happy. Or not like happy happy. But like happy-the-boy-I-like-likes-me-back happy.

What I’m trying to say is that I don’t know how to write when I’m not pinning over a boy that doesn’t know how I feel about him. I’m good at unrequited love poems. Crushes. Loving people from afar.

But this thing I have with K is a whole new feeling and experience. It’s an unusual relationship that I’m happy we’re in. I can be me while he can be him while we both grow in knowledge about each other and ourselves. And when we’re ready we’ll be together. I know most of the time it’s not that neatly put together. But that’s the risk I want to take with K.

And I want to be able to write about it in poetry form. I want to share my feelings about this. My fears. That I don’t like how much I miss him sometimes it doesn’t only hurt, it stings. How sometimes I ache for old memories we have because I’m trying to hold onto him and us. How I hate the fact that I won’t be able to visit him this year. How I also hate that I engulf myself in every bit of sighting of him I see in other peoples’ Instagram because he deleted his earlier this year. And every bit of seeing him, even though it’s the back of his head or just a brief few seconds of his face in pixelated videos or photos, I’ll take it. It’s enough but still not enough.

It’s hard missing someone you love June. Relationships are hard in general, but romantic ones are the worst. Also the best. 10/10 would still recommend. 

I’ll write to you soon.

Love and all the good things,

Lar

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