My daughter observed that Nebraska "does not seem to know you very well, even still". That really struck a nerve and stuck, cz I realized: I have done that. I have loved a LOT but/while not understanding my mate very well. And now I know how that feels.

Not being understood = my needs do not get met. And that feels a whole bunch of confusing kinds of shitty. Because they looove you, so you're the "bad" one for not being enough. 

I just mean I've fucked that up before, too. 

Ideally, on a long enough time horizon, exlovers become friends so that they might gain insight(s) about themselves with someone who knows them well and now that there's no reason to be full of shit with each other. (And they may still get each other's jokes, humor being vital and scarce 🙏)....

"What a night", he says, processing the space between how fucking cool the tech specs of the body are and how fragile its soul. Confusing me with the cath particulars, looking for the best metaphor for THE thing: the potential inability to save/protect what is most precious and the complexity of what/who that altogether is. Picking up there, where we left off. Leave off, repeatedly. Unable to include one another as precious enough.

So, let's amend the 'exlovers are valuable friend resources' opinion piece. I am still PRO that but include the following guideline: don't fuck each other. Especially if you've already tried that every which way - as forbidden love true love spiritual practice make up lust big spoon little spoon post-apocalypse casual passion apology compulsion ecstatic learning curve - especially if the casual category failed the most miserably ft sex too good for that.

love somebody - post malone and morgan wallen

chemistry probably unavoidable, possibly quite enjoyable, and feeling fuckable is great  - but I'm going through a NO PHASE

 

Boy poison - a boy's kisses were like a poison, which infected you and after you were exposed you craved more, like an addict.

Susan Minot, Rapture