I think if I wasn’t so passive I would start an argument with every ______ who has posted about gun rights since the Aurora shooting. Could you maybe wait a little while until you start exclaiming about GUNS NOT KILLING PEOPLE?! Because.. I think your argument might be irrelevant. FUcks sake. And before you respond to this, look, I don’t care about why you think guns don’t kill people and also I’m all for personal freedom. But why does personal freedom have to include the ability to tote a gun? Okay. I’m done. (Maybe not so passive after all.) NOTE: I am not intentionally phrasing any of this as a question because I don’t really want to know your opinion at all. Sorry. This is just mine and I don’t care whether you agree or disagree. Note how this is posted on my fb and not on the hundreds of redundant pictures proclaiming that guns don’t kill.
Everything is so beautiful when I’m with you that sometimes I forgot to write it all down, how much it all really means to me.
It’s all those little things that matter the most, that eventually form the big picture.
It’s barely touching in a room full of people, but feeling like you’ll spontaneously combust from within.
It’s knowing glances, and sly smiles, and knowing exactly what you’re about to say.
The way you snap the blue elastic around my wrist.
The gradual build up of comfort until one day you’re lying side by side with nothing but a blanket and you don’t know how you got to that point, from all the points before.
It’s your cat and the mix cd and my purple tapestry on your wall. It’s me knowing when your dentist appointment is and when you’ll pick up that stuff and how your brothers doing and you knowing when I’m going to the pharmacy and where I was that night and when I’ll be getting home.
It’s honesty I guess, in all it’s simple ways.
It’s building something, it’s the process..
And I want to remember.