Love is one kind of abstraction. And then there are those nights when
I sleep alone, when I curl into a pillow that isn't you, when I hear
the tiptoe sounds that aren't yours. It's not as if I can conjure you
there completely. I must embrace the idea of you instead.
abyss, n.
There are times when I doubt everything. When I regret everything
you've taken from me, everything I've given you, and the waste if all
the time I've spent on us.
ardent, adj.
It was after sex, when there was still heat and mostly breathing, when
there was still touch and mostly thought…it was as if the whole work
could be reduced to the sound of a single string being played, and the
only thing this sound could make me think of was you. Sometimes desire
is air; sometimes desire is liquid. An every now and then, when
everything else is air and liquid, desire solidifies, and the body is
the magnet that draws its weight.
awhile, adv.
I love the vagueness of words that involve time.
(i)It took him awhile to come back(i) - it could be a matter of
minutes or hours, days or years.
It is easy for me to say it took me awhile to know. That is about
as accurate as I can get. There were sneak previews of knowing, for
sure. Instances that made me feel, oh, this could be right. But the
moment I shifted from a hope that needed to be proven to a certainty
that would be continually challenged? There's no pinpointing that.
Perhaps it never happened. Perhaps it happened while I was asleep.
Mostly likely, there's no signal event. There's just the steady
accumulation of (i)awhile.
barfly, n.
You have the ability to talk to anyone, which is an ability I do not
share.
basis, n.
There has to be a moment at the beginning when you wonder whether
you're in love with the person or in love with the feeling of love
itself.
If the moment doesn't pass, that's it - you're done.
And if the moment (i)does(i) pass, it never goes that far. It
stands in the distance, ready for whenever you want it back. Sometimes
it's even there when you thought you were searching for something
else, like an escape route, or your lover's face.
better, adj. and adv.
Will it ever get better?
It better.
Will it ever get better?
It better.
Will it ever get better?
It better.
breathtaking, adj.
Those mornings when we kiss and surrender for an hour before we say a
single word.
celibacy, n.
n/a
corrode, v.
I spent all this time building a relationship. Then one night I left
the window open, and it started to rust.
covet, v.
This is a difference between us: you desire what other people have,
while I desire the things I used to have, or think I might have one day.
Sometimes, with you, it's stupid things. Like shoes. Or a bigger-
screen TV, like the one we see at someone's apartment. Or a share in
the Hamptons, even though we can't afford a share in the Hamptons and
would hate it there.
But every now and then I'm caught off guard. Like when we're over
at my cousin's house and her kids are running everywhere. Her husband
brings her coffee without her asking for it. They seem exhausted, but
you can tell the exhaustion is worth it. And the kids - the kids are
happy. They are so happy on such a base level that they don't seem to
understand that it's possible to have anything other than a base level
of happiness. I catch you desiring that. For your past? For your
present? Your future? I have no idea. I never know what you really
want, if I can give it to you, or if I'm already too late.
daunting, adj.
Really, we should use this more as a verb. You daunted me, and I
daunted you. Or would it be that I was daunted by you, and you were
daunted by me? That sounds better. It daunted me that you were so
beautiful, that you were so at ease in social situations, as if every
room was heliotropic, with you at the center. And I guess it daunted
you that I had so many more friends than you, that I could put my
words together like this, on paper, and could sometimes conjure a
certain sense out of things.
The key is to never recognize these imbalances. To not let the
dauntingness daunt us.
detachment, n.
I still don't know if this is a good quality or a bad one, to be able
to be in the moment and then step out of it. Not just during sex, or
while talking, or kissing. I don't deliberately pull away - I don't
think I do - but I find myself suddenly there on the outside, unable
to lose myself in where I am. You catch me sometimes. You'll say I'm
drifting off, and I'll apologize, trying to snap back to the present.
But I should say this:
Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and
still care about it. If I wanted to detach completely, I would move my
body away. I would stop the conversation midsentence. I would leave
the bed. Instead, I hover over it for a second. I glance off in
another direction. But I always glance back at you.
disabuse, v.
I love the idea that an abuse can be negated. And that the things most
often disabused are notions.
dissonance, n.
Nights when I need to sleep and you can't. Days when I want to talk
and you won't. Hours when every noise you make interferes with my
silence. Weeks when there is a buzzing in the air, and we both pretend
we don't hear it.
doldrums, n.
The proper verb for (i)depression(i) is (i)sink(i).
dumbfounded, adj.
And still, for all the jealousy, all the doubt, sometimes I will be
struck with a kind of awe that we're together. That someone like me
could find someone like you — it renders me wordless. Because surely
words would conspire against such luck, would protest the unlikelihood
of such a turn of events.
I didn't tell any of my friends about our first date. I waited
until after the second, because I wanted to make sure it was real. I
wouldn't believe it had happened until it had happened again. Then,
later on, I would be overwhelmed by the evidence, by all the lines
connecting you to me, and us to love.
elliptical, adj.
This kiss I like the most is one of the slow ones. It's as much breath
as touch, as much (i)no(i) as (i)yes(i). You lean in from the side,
and I have to turn a little to make it happen.
encroach, v.
The first three nights we spent together, I couldn't sleep. I wasn't
used to your breathing, your feet on my legs, your weight in the bed.
In truth, I still sleep better when I'm alone. But now I allow that
sleep isn't always the most important thing.
exemplar, n.
It's ways something we have to negotiate - the fact that my parents
are happy, and yours have never been. I have something to live up to,
and if I fail, I still have a family to welcome me home. You have a
storyline to rewrite, and a lack of faith that it can ever be done.
You love my parents, I know. But you never get too close. You
never truly believe there aren't bad secrets underneath.
fast, n. and adj.
Starvation and speed. Noun and adjective. This is where I get caught.
A fast is the opposite of desire. It is the negation of desire. It is
what I feel after we fight.
The speed does us in. We act rashly, we say too much, we don't let
all the synapses connect before we do the thing we shouldn't do.
You make it a production. Slam doors. Knock things over. Scream.
But I just leave. Even if I'm still standing there, I leave. I am
refusing you. I am denying you. I am an adjective that is quickly
turning into a noun.
fledgling, adj.
Part of the reason I preferred reading to sex was that I at least knew
I could read well. It took your patience to allow me to like it more.
And eventually I even stopped seeing it as patience.
flux, n.
The natural state. Our moods change. Our lives change. Our feelings
for each other change. Our bearings change. The song changes. The air
changes. The temperature of the shower changes.
Accept this. We must accept this.
fraught, adj.
Does every "I love you" deserve an "I love you too"? Does every kiss
deserve a kiss back? Does every night deserve to be spent on a lover?
If the answer to any of these is "No", what do we do?
gravity, n.
I imagine you saved my life. And then I wonder if I'm just imagining it.
healthy, adj.
There are times when I'm alone that I think, (I) This is it. This is
actually the natural state (I). All I need are my thoughts and my
small acts of creation and my ability to go or do whatever I want to
go or do. I am myself, and that is the point. Pairing is a social
construction. It is by no means necessary for everyone to do it. Maybe
I'm better like this. Maybe I could live my life in my own world, and
then simply leave it when it's time to go.
I, n.
Me without anyone else.
incessant, adj.
The doubts. You had to save me from my constant doubts. That deep-
seeded feeling that I wasn't good enough for anything - I was a fake
at my job, I wasn't your equal, my friends would forget me if I moved
away for a month. It wasn't as easy as hearing voices - nobody was
telling me this. It was just something I knew. Everyone else was
playing along, but I was sure that one day they would all stop.
ineffable, adj.
These words will ultimately end up being the barest of reflections,
devoid of the sensations words cannot convey. Trying to write about
love is ultimately like trying to have a dictionary represent life. No
matter how many words there are, there will never be enough.
infidel, n.
We think of them as hiding in the hills - rebels, ransackers, rogue
revolutionaries. But really, aren't they just guilty of infidelity?
juxtaposition, n.
It scares me how hard it is to remember life before you. I can't even
make the comparisons anymore, because my memories of that time have
all the depth of a photograph. It seems foolish to play games of (i)
better(i) and (i)worse(i). It's simply a matter of (i)is(i) and (i)is
no longer(i).
libidinous, adj.
I never understood why anyone would have sex on the floor. Until I was
with you and I realised: you don't ever realize you're on the floor.
love, n.
I'm not going to even try.
lover, n.
Oh, how I hated this word. So pretentious, like it was always being
translated from French. The tint and taint of illicit, illegitimate
affections. Dictionary meaning: (i)a person having a love affair(i).
Impermanent. Unfamilial. Inextricably linked to sex.
I have never wanted a lover. In order to have a lover, I must go
back to the root of the word. For I have never wanted a lover, but I
have always wanted to love, and to be loved.
There is no word for the recipient of the love. There is only a
word for the giver. There is the assumption that lovers come in pairs.
When I say, (i)Be my lover(i), I don't mean, (i)Let's have an
affair(i). I don't mean, (i)Sleep with me(i). I don't mean, (i)Be my
secret(i).
I want us to go back down to that root.
I want you to be the one who loves me.
I want to be the one who loves you.
makeshift, adj.
I had always thought there were two types of people: the helpless and
the fixers. Since I'd always been in the first group, calling my
landlord whenever the faucet dripped, I was hoping you'd be a fixer.
But once we moved in together, I realized there's a third group: the
inventors. You possess only a vague notion of how to fix things, but
that doesn't stop you from using bubble gum as a sealant, or trying to
create ouchless mousetraps out of peanut-butter crackers, a hollowed-
out Dustbuster, and a picture of a scarecrow torn out of a magazine
fashion spread.
Things rarely get fixed the way they need to be.
masochist, n.
If there wasn't a word for it, would we realize our masochism as much?
meander, v.
"…because when it all comes down to it, there's no such thing as a
two-hit wonder. So it's better just to have that one song that
everyone knows, instead of diluting it with a follow-up that only half
succeeds. I mean, who really cares what Soft Cell's next single was,
as long as we have 'Tainted Love'?"
I stop. You're still listening.
"Wait," I say. "What was I talking about? How did we get to
'Tainted Love'?"
"Let's see," you say. "I believe we started roughly at the
Democratic gains in the South, then jumped back to the election of
1948, dipping briefly into northern constructions of the South, vis-à-
vis Steel Magnilias, Birth of a Nation, Johnny Cash, and Fried Green
Tomatoes. Which landed you on To Kill a Mockingbird, and how it is
both Southern and universal, which - correct me if I'm wong - got us
to Harper Lee and her lack of a follow-up novel, intersected with the
theory, probably wrong, that Truman Capote wrote the novel, then
hopping over to literary one-hit wonders, and using musical one-hit
wonders to make a point about their special place in our culture. I
think."
"Thank you," I say. "That's wonderful."
misgivings, n.
Last night, I got up the courage to ask you if you regretted us.
"There are things I miss," you said. "But if I didn't have you,
I'd miss more."
motif, n.
(i)You don't love me as much as I love you. You don't love me as much
as I love you. You don't love me as much as I love you. (i)
narcissism, n.
You couldn't believe I didn't own a full-length mirror.
neophyte, n.
There are millions upon millions of people who have been through this
before - why is it that no one can give me good advice?
non sequitur, n.
This is what it sounds like when doves cry.
obstinate, adj.
Sometimes it becomes a contest: Which is more stubborn, the love or
the two arguing people caught within it?
only, adj.
That's the dilemma, isn't it? When you're single, there's the sadness
and joy of (i)only me(i). And when you're paired, there's the sadness
and joy of (i)only you(i).
persevere, v.
Those first few weeks, after you told me, I wasn't sure we were going
to make it. After working for so long on being sure of each other,
sure of this thing, suddenly we were unsure again. I didn't know
whether or not to touch you, sleep with you, have sex with you.
Finally, I said, "It's over."
You started to cry, and I quickly said, "No - I mean this part is
over. We have to get to the next part."
placid, adj.
Sometimes I love it when we just lie on our backs, gaze off, stay
still.
posterity, n.
I try not to think about us growing old together, mostly because I try
not to think about growing old at all. Both things - the years
passing, the years together - are too enormous to contemplate. But one
morning, I gave in. You were asleep, and I imagined you older and
older. Your hair graying, your skin folded and creased, your breath
catching. And I found myself thinking: if this continues, if this goes
on, then when I die, your memories of me will be my greatest
accomplishment. Your memories will be my most lasting impression.
punctuate, v.
Cue the imaginary interviewer:
(i)Q: So when all is said and done, what have you learned here?(i)
(i)A(i): The key to a successful relationship isn't just in the
words, it's in the choice of punctuation. When you're in love with
someone, a well-placed question mark can be the difference between
bliss and disaster, and a deeply respected period or a cleverly
inserted ellipsis can prevent all kinds of exclamations.
quixotic, adj.
Finally, I said, "It's over."
You started to cry, and I quickly said, "No - I meant this part is
over. We have to get to the next part."
And you said, "I'm not sure we can."
rapprochement, n.
I remember my grandmother saying, "You have to let the cake cool
before you frost it."
raze, v.
It sounded like you were lifting me, but it all fell.
recant, v.
I want to take back at least half of the "I love yous", because I
didn't mean them as much as the other ones. I want to take back the
book of artsy photos I gave you, because you didn't get it and said it
was hipster trash. I want to take back what I said about you being an
emotional zombie. I want to take back the time I called you "honey" in
front of your sister and you looked like I had just shown her pictures
of us having sex. I want to take back the wineglass I broke when I was
mad, because it was a nice wineglass and the argument would have ended
anyway. I want to take back the time we had sex in a rent-a-car, not
because I feel bad about the people who got the car after us, but
because it was massively uncomfortable. I want to take back the trust
I had while you were away in Austin. I want to take back the time I
said you were a genius, because I was being sarcastic and I should
have just said you'd hurt my feelings. I want to take back the secrets
I told you so I can decide now whether to tell them to you again. I
want to take back the piece of me that lies in you, to see if I truly
miss it. I want to take back at least half the "I love yous", because
it feels safer that way.
reservation, n.
There are times when I worry that I've already lost myself. That is,
that my self is so inseparable from being with you that if we were to
separate, I would no longer be. I save this thought for when I feel
the darkest discontent. I never meant to depend so much on someone else.
rest, v. and n.
Bear with me for the rest of this.
That's it. Come closer.
We're here.
reverberate, v.
Why did your father leave?
scapegoat, n.
I think our top two are:
1. Not enough coffee
2. Too much coffee
solipsistic, adj.
(i)Go ahead(i), I thought. (i)Go ahead. Go ahead(i). I got stuck
there. (i)Go ahead. Go ahead(i). Because I genuinely couldn't see
anything after that.
stanchion, n.
I don't want to be the strong one, but I don't want to be the weak
one, either. Why does it feel like it's always one or the other? When
we embrace, one of us is always holding the other a little tighter.
suffuse, v.
I don't like it when you use my shampoo, because then your hair smells
like me, not you.
tableau, n.
We go to visit two friends who've been together for ten years now,
five times longer than we have. I look at the ease with which they sit
together on the couch. They joke with each other, get annoyed with
each other, curl into each other like apostrophes within a quotation
mark as they talk. I realize that two years is not a long time. I
realize that even ten years is not a long time. But when it seems
insurmountable, I need reminders like this that you can get used to
it. That it can take on the comfort of the right choice. That lasting
things do, in fact, last.
tenet, n.
At the end of the French movie, the lover sings, "Love me less, but
love me for a long time."
transient, adj.
In school, the year was the marker. Fifth grade. Senior year of high
school. Sophomore year of college. Then after, the jobs were the
marker. That office. This desk. But now that school is over and I've
been working at the same place in the same office at the same desk for
longer than I can truly believe, I realize: You have become the
marker. This is your era. And it's only if it goes on and on that I
will have to look for other ways to identify the time.
trenchant, adj.
You never let things go unanswered for too long. Emails. Phone calls.
Questions. As if you know the waiting is the hardest part for me.
ubiquitous, adj.
When it's going well, the fact of it is everywhere. It's there in the
song that shuffles into your ears. It's there in the book you're
reading. It's there on the shelves of the store as you reach for a
towel and forget about the towel. It's there as you open the door. As
you stare off on the subway, it's what you're looking at. You wear it
on the inside of your hat. It lines your pockets. It's the temperature.
The hitch, of course, is that when it's going badly, it's in all
the same places.
vagary, n.
The mistake is thinking there can be an antidote to the uncertainty.
voluminous, adj.
I have already spent roughly five thousand hours asleep next to you.
This has to mean something.
x, n.
Doesn't it strike you as strange that we have a letter in the alphabet
that nobody uses? It represents one-twenty-sixth of the possibility of
our language, and we let it languish. If you and I really, truly
wanted to change the world, we'd invent more words that started with x.
yearning, n. and adj.
At the core of this desire is the belief that everything can be perfect.
miki
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