If not for our circumstances, you would have gotten me into bed a long, long time ago. I feel like an idiot junior high school girl for melting at the phrase "when we met, our bodies remembered" But that's exactly what it felt like to me, and it's also why I was almost immediately in love with you, before I even really knew you.

I like how it feels to read those words (even if they are artfully edited to be ever so slightly out of context). It reminds me of sitting at your kitchen table in your old house with no one else around, feeling pinned to my chair as you looked right through me, which, as I have mentioned before, is not something people easily do to me. It makes me feel innocent, defenseless, and easily captured. Usually I am jaded and hardened to such things. I'm not easy. But I wouldn't blame you for drawing that conclusion from my behavior. I would have a really hard time denying you anything you asked of me right now. But reality is calling me, and it is rather insistent that I answer right this second.

I think what hurts the most is when things I hope were left for me disappear. Many things disappeared last night. The one that made me saddest was the one about feeling like you're supposed to be somewhere else.

I've been so busy the past two days that I haven't had time to listen, but I've been able to read and research. I'm glad nobody was around to see my reaction to walking into the night and holding out until morning light. But when I read the words "you're still mine" It stung me, because it's true. Had you been next to me then, I would have done anything you asked. As it was, I just cried in my office. A tragedy for the ages? Certainly. In my mind, at least.

It seems you want to be pointed in a certain direction, but I don't think you'd like it if I actually did that. Nevertheless, here's some of my trash: Despite current appearances, I'm pretty sure I will never marry again. I am reasonably certain that once I've taught all the lessons I was unwittingly sent to teach, I will both live and die alone. I feel like a wheel. People, usually men, run into me and are sent spinning in another direction, redirected to another path, hopefully the right one. This is not something I have control of, and it's not something I chose. It's also not something I do consciously. But it is a recurring and persistent pattern that becomes clearer the older I get. I help people, sometimes without meaning to or knowing what I'm doing, or even that I'm doing it, and then they leave me or I leave them. Sometimes I am at peace with this, or at least resigned to it. Sometimes I am neither.

You don't even have to speak to make me feel terrible. Do you not believe that I'm in love with you? It doesn't come and go. Sometimes I just have to push it down to make my life work. That doesn't mean it isn't there. When I look through you, or don't look at you, it's because if I do look at you, or ever look in your eyes, I will either cry, or want to kiss you and never stop. Sometimes I think about that for much longer than I would like to admit--just kissing you, but I am lying underneath you, and our hands are intertwined, and we don't even stop to breathe.

I wish we were able to talk, alone and sober. I want to be near you and see you and touch you and maybe sit a little too close to you. You can play that game where you move to a different seat to see if I'll follow. You know I always will.

The warden is awake. I wish I had time to refine and edit this. I guess it is real emotional trash

I'm jealous as fuck. If she is kissing you while i am sitting at a bar, I want to strangle her. Yeah, I'm drunk. But I want to be in her place. I just want to kiss you. I'm totally lying. I want much more than that. I want whatever you will give me. But I want you to take it from me, not from her. Someone is supposed to meet me any minute now, or I would walk to your house and make a scene that I hope would be resolved through really passionate, transcendent sex.