Read this only when you're through with your friends, please. I dislike monopolizing your attention - truly. I want you to have a nice evening. We will have time for one another.
A lifetime, I hope.
First, thank you. Thank you for showing your friend, for opening a door in the wall.
Thank you, as well, for speaking all of this to me. (A reiteration here: I would rather you put this energy toward your friends just now. Please do focus on them, yes? For me, have fun. Gossip. Drink. Tell terrible bird jokes.
Please. It would make me happy to know you're having fun.)
And thank you for everything else. For existing. For being Nova, and my Nova, and for taking time with me. Having patience with me.
[...]
I wonder how many people have told you that I have [...] a bleak outlook. Iryna did, I know she did, because she doesn't shut the fuck up refrain from talking about it. Senan, then?
It's worse than it was before I met Madeline, but I've always been [...] unquiet. It never goes away entirely, and I don't believe it ever will. It's simply...how I am, with only how I respond that makes a difference. I try to keep myself calm and not give in to the flashes of panic or [...] anger. Or dread.
My thoughts have almost a physical weight; sometimes it becomes difficult to breathe. I never feel quite at ease with others unless I've had a drink.
Or I know them, but even that's no guarantee of comfort.
It's only with other people. Only talking, guessing, trying to sort out what's right, how I should be, how I can be if I'm doing nothing of use. Left to myself or left with a goal, I feel [...] stable? No. Neutral, that word. Like with buoyancy, neither floating nor sinking.
The strangeness of you, Vevay, is that I don't always feel neutral in the silences between your messages. I feel doubt in sharp, sudden bursts, because this is strange. You and I are strange, how quickly we've [...] fallen.
For myself, how deeply and completely, like I've settled into some place that was always meant for me.
The doubt comes when I remember only a week has passed, and these things aren't possible. Shouldn't be. This is how hearts are broken, the kind of thing people mock for foolishness.
But I don't feel uneasy when you speak to me.
Not once have I doubted what you tell me. I'm not a gullible person; I'm more likely to distrust now than I was before, but I don't doubt you. You're as certain to me as breathing.
What I mean is - trusting you came as automatically as breathing.
When you see these moments of apprehension from me, please know it's only that I questioned the existence of air.
[...]
You quiet my mind in ways no one ever has, Vevay. It's as though, instead of shouting over the chaos, you slip under it and lift it away. I can see the lack of reason, the irrationality of my thoughts, but I don't feel ashamed, not berated by you. I don't feel disappointment from you.
Only a calm, certain faith.
[...]
I've only known you for a week.
And also.
I feel I'm known by you better than those who have been in my life from its beginning. You can reach me where no one else ever has.
3/4
Read this only when you're through with your friends, please. I dislike monopolizing your attention - truly. I want you to have a nice evening. We will have time for one another.
A lifetime, I hope.
First, thank you. Thank you for showing your friend, for opening a door in the wall.
Thank you, as well, for speaking all of this to me. (A reiteration here: I would rather you put this energy toward your friends just now. Please do focus on them, yes? For me, have fun. Gossip. Drink. Tell terrible bird jokes.
Please. It would make me happy to know you're having fun.)
And thank you for everything else. For existing. For being Nova, and my Nova, and for taking time with me. Having patience with me.
[...]
I wonder how many people have told you that I have [...] a bleak outlook. Iryna did, I know she did, because she doesn't
shut the fuck uprefrain from talking about it. Senan, then?It's worse than it was before I met Madeline, but I've always been [...] unquiet. It never goes away entirely, and I don't believe it ever will. It's simply...how I am, with only how I respond that makes a difference. I try to keep myself calm and not give in to the flashes of panic or [...] anger. Or dread.
My thoughts have almost a physical weight; sometimes it becomes difficult to breathe. I never feel quite at ease with others unless I've had a drink.
Or I know them, but even that's no guarantee of comfort.
It's only with other people. Only talking, guessing, trying to sort out what's right, how I should be, how I can be if I'm doing nothing of use. Left to myself or left with a goal, I feel [...] stable? No. Neutral, that word. Like with buoyancy, neither floating nor sinking.
The strangeness of you, Vevay, is that I don't always feel neutral in the silences between your messages. I feel doubt in sharp, sudden bursts, because this is strange. You and I are strange, how quickly we've [...] fallen.
For myself, how deeply and completely, like I've settled into some place that was always meant for me.
The doubt comes when I remember only a week has passed, and these things aren't possible. Shouldn't be. This is how hearts are broken, the kind of thing people mock for foolishness.
But I don't feel uneasy when you speak to me.
Not once have I doubted what you tell me. I'm not a gullible person; I'm more likely to distrust now than I was before, but I don't doubt you. You're as certain to me as breathing.
What I mean is - trusting you came as automatically as breathing.
When you see these moments of apprehension from me, please know it's only that I questioned the existence of air.
[...]
You quiet my mind in ways no one ever has, Vevay. It's as though, instead of shouting over the chaos, you slip under it and lift it away. I can see the lack of reason, the irrationality of my thoughts, but I don't feel ashamed, not berated by you. I don't feel disappointment from you.
Only a calm, certain faith.
[...]
I've only known you for a week.
And also.
I feel I'm known by you better than those who have been in my life from its beginning. You can reach me where no one else ever has.
Maybe one week is enough.