I looked at the city of San Francisco, a city that I worked so hard to get to. And I realized that I was an ephemeral denizen of the city, no matter how bad I wanted it to be otherwise. And then I thought about the people in my life that I came to love. For I loved San Francisco, like I loved so many other cities that I lived in before. Like I loved so many other people before.
My cousin irritated me greatly today, when she told me that I was detached and distant, and that this rose from my astrological signs. As if the alignment of stars and the exact moments that my mother shot me out her vagina somehow dictated me. Bull fucking shit.
I suffered the loss of love so many times. I have lost so many times. But I still love fierily. The love was never gone, only the subject of that love changed, however heartbreaking it may have been. So for a city, so for human beings, and every other thing that I become close to.
We will lose each other. We are never each other's to have. But that will not stop me from loving you. And I hope that will not stop you from loving me. Ardently. Passionately. Openly. Willingly. To love your body. To love your presence. And to love how you love me.
This post is about finding someone to love: to date, to fuck, to marry, to share, to give up, and to lose. Who could dare have that honor with me? And who would I give ever grant this honor to?
Me: 30M, Indian, slim/fit, tends to talk and joke often, spiritual, emotional, rational, and a bunch of other labels that I continuously take in and disregard.
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