A Love-letter to No-one

Right now, I have a beer and three cups of Hypnotic inside me (a quality mixture of vodka, cognac, and fruit punch, according to the bottle) and I am able to be honest.

My loves - I miss you. Very, very much. I miss the way you moan and cry out; I miss the way your skin and genitalia taste inside of my mouth. I miss the way it feels like we were moulded out of the same clay - the way we resonate with each other. Maybe that's just an isolated feeling - maybe I'm the only one who feels like that - but no matter. I feel as if I can communicate with you without words, and that's something. That, my dears, is worth mentioning. Worth valuing.

I see the photographs of you with your significant others. I see your Facebook status updates about them. I see how integral they are to your lives. And it's okay. I don't care. I can't care. Because I? I love you - all of you. So deeply. So much. Tonight - I was talking to a friend here, explaining how I would do just about anything for somebody I am close to. And it's true.

Perhaps this is a dangerous statement, but - you define me. You make me.

Because what use is a world in which you have nobody whom you find worth dying for? Worth living for?

To the Emperor: I have been emailing with K and he speaks of his ex-who-he-still-loves in the most poetic of terms: he describes her as a tornado; as a maple tree. I would describe you as a brightly-shining-sun. When I spent time with you, I described it to others as 'basking in your prescence.' And it's true. Being around you is like witnessing a great ball of destructive and creative energy; witnessing a force that can move mountains. I wish I could be there with you right now, before you leave for good and live the fabulous life that you deserve. I wish we could have had more time. I keep thinking that maybe you would have let me in; you would have loved me as much as you loved her - your girlfriend. But I've wished for the same thing before and it came to nothing.

If I was at College right now - you know what I would have done to you? I would have found the best way to tie you up and render you immobile; I would have found the best places on your body to strike. The places that would make you scream ecstatically. I would have taken you to a place inside of your mind where you felt the most vulnerable; the most safe; the most cradled; the most possessed.

I still dream of coming back and finding that you're still there. I dream of finding you and your wine-rich lips and dizzying kisses. Maybe one day I will find you - somewhere unexpected.

To Christopher: I want you. Which is the beginning and end of it all, really. I want your cock and your mouth and your ass and your cries and your ridiculousness. I'm so grateful for the way you listen to me and tolerate me and let me crawl into you and feel safe and protected. I'm grateful for the way you let me push you.

To the Actor: I dream about you. I dreamt about you last night. I dreamt we were both still at College, and rolling around in bed and cuddling and talking about everything under the sun as we always do.

You were my friend, my sibling, my lover, and my child. You displaced me. Threw me completely off-kilter. And I appreciate that. I hope I see you again, and soon.

---

I've yet to spend quality time with somebody here who does not want to get into my pants in some way. It's annoying. And the people I am attracted to? Completely unavailable, as usual. Basil is extremely elusive and such a clit-tease. So arrogant and condescending - which is partly why I have such a huge crush on him.

What an idiot...

I want to taste his mouth; pull onto his dreads so his head snaps back and I can taste his neck. I want to feel his wiry body against me. Most of all - I want to make him gasp. I want to render him speechless. I want to make him completely devoid of smarmy comments. And I want to tease him until he begs me to let him come.

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