Mila Jaroniec

You have to start thinking she’s average.

I don’t love you anymore because I’m not important to you and you give me nothing. Maybe saying that makes me a selfish person but I no longer care.

None of the words are as good as yours.

I’m trying to come up with normal things to text you.

Under no circumstances should you let them spoon you. When it comes to feelings spooning is basically asking for it.

No one tells you that you’ll get tired of love. No one tells you that no matter how happy you are in your relationship, occasionally you’ll wish you had only yourself to take care of again.

I want you because you and I, the thought of you and I. Those letters forming those words, those words sticking together, the jellyfish swell and shrink in my chest when I think about what they mean.

You can visit each other, you can Skype, you can do small things that make you feel connected to each other’s lives, but even those can sometimes seem like paltry offerings thrown into the void when you consider the vastness.

These are songs to cry to, drink to, feel weak to; songs to feel wounded to and feel the tight swell in your chest to.

I know I love you because I want to listen, I really do. I don’t have anywhere to be that can’t wait for a while and I’m not checking my phone, in fact turned it off and buried it in the cushions the moment you said you needed me. I’m here for you and that other thing can wait.

Sometimes, when people say “I’m here for you,” they mean “I’m here for a while, for an hour or an evening. You’re a generally good person and I enjoy your company and I know you have to vent right now, so I’ll listen; I’ll even bring the beers if you want. But I probably won’t stay the night.”

If you interact in any way on Tumblr, you obviously need to have sex. But then again everyone on Tumblr just needs to have sex with each other. Just a massive internet orgy of political correctness and hipbones and love.