if i was to flesh out where i wanted to go when i lost my breath with that kiss, it would probably lean towards those stories in macho sluts - the top who walks into a bar and sees someone waiting for her attention...someone who needs her to do those horrible, intimate things to them.

but which perspective am i coming from? i guess i'm never sure if i want the hand or the throat to be mine, but maybe i want both, but can i ever be good enough at one to justify doing both?

you keep asking me for details, for words to tell ou what's happening in my head and i keep copping out, kissing you instead, falling asleep, leaving the bed. you know this, you see it and you call me out on it, and then i'm ashamed, but i don't know how to change it.

and maybe that's another cop-out, because i know i need to learn how to talk to you, and let you know where i'm at (so we can meet somewhere). and isn't that at least some vague knowledge of 'how to change it'?

and yes, sometimes i process with myself, online. fuck off.

i haven't written in so long - here or in my book, but i feel like a lot has happened.

this is the part where i get terrified when i don't write things down: i can't remember anymore what's been said and what hasn't.

we had an extensive check-in last weekend, but so much has happened since then i can only remember bits of it: talking about how sometimes being unproductive is self-care; that i'm worried about my lack of communication and how frustrated it makes you; and that's all, i can't remember all the rest of those words that we exchanged and then let go and then were blown around by the fan.

and then this past week i've been working so hard, it feel like, to find some kind of balance between dates with friends and dates with you and work and meetings and feeling like i'm doing something productive with my life. and whenever you ask me to come visit i'm on my bike and pushing up the hill in a second, but when i ask you to come to my home you're so reluctant it's like pulling teeth.

and maybe this is all that i deserve for my lack, but it doesn't feel good. or maybe i'm especially sensitive today, and projecting, but it's hard not to sometimes. i feel like our connection is so weak occasionally: static disrupting our words.