Dear Marlee

by **LADIES AND GENTLEMEN** Mon 05 Jan 2009, 3:28 pm

It's too hot and I'm too awake just from thinking of you to sleep any more.
I think I might be in denial.

I left a note for my dad so I don't want to face him, now.

But I couldn't stop thinking of you, so I figured I might try and assemble my thoughts in a place - and structure - that would let other people [read: you] read them.

I miss you. I miss you now and I'll miss you all this wintersummer.

I miss the smell of your hair. The way its not shampoos or soaps, just, you; like it smells of silk and softness and everything sweet and perfect.

I miss how soft it was, too - when I straightened it for you (even though I prefer it curly) as an excuse to touch you, and the way it tickled my face when I had you in my arms.

I miss your skin. Stupid things, tiny things, like the way my fingers brushed your neck or how my lips felt against your cheek, now seem so significant. It hurts to have almost forgotten.

I miss your waist - the way when I hugged you for the first time, everything, all my tension and fears, just vanished, because my arms fit so perfectly around you.

I miss touching you. I miss the way my heart felt, like there was fucking electricity inside me, when you first dropped your head onto my shoulder, the way it felt so perfect when I woke up with you in my arms that I could ignore the fact that the couch would be giving me back problems for the next week.

I miss your terrible taste in movies and your disgusting pepsi. I miss someone appreciating my cooking. I miss the way you laughed at me when I needed to break the tension and I miss actually feeling special and funny. I miss how for that single night I got to spend with you it felt like you were all I'd need ever again.

I miss the way that everytime you pouted or smiled or laughed or spoke, I wanted to kiss you. Forget everything and everyone, friends and lovers and rules and practicality, and just press my lips to yours.

And you still dont know how bad I wish I had.

I wish someone had just given us the SLIGHTEST hint that the other was interested because no-one but us can imagine how much it hurts to know that it could have happened... but it didnt.

I'm sorry your parents cant like me. I'm sorry they think I'm a bad influence and I'm really sorry they don't think I'm good enough for you... because maybe I agree, sometimes, but if you think I am then its enough to make me believe in myself.

I'm sorry I get so upset so easily. I'm sorry I worry you. I'm sorry for every time I've stuck my fingers down my throat or put a blade to my arm and I'm desperately sorry that you're still scared I might go back to it, because angel, in two days its 4 months since I did that and I am never ever going back.

I'm sorry for every time I've overreacted and hurt you. I'm sorry for every time I've implied that you didn't love me, and for telling you that you shouldn't.

I'm not sorry that I love you more than anything ever.

Because I do.

I can handle this. it's going to hurt like a fucking bitch but I can handle it. It will be worth it to see you again. To hold you again. To finally get to kiss you. To tell you I love you to your face.

Of course I can fucking handle this; what would I do without you? You're my pulse and my oxygen and the energy behind every movement my fingers make on the fretboard of a guitar or the keys of a piano.

You're my everything.

I love you, beautiful.