Bubblings

1567474457_835a36612e_b[1]Me: I’m not breathing right now.
Her: That’s not good. You need to breathe.
Me: When you float you don’t need to.

You have caused a lot. A lot of thinking. No, more than that. Deep contemplation. A tempest in my brain. Wait … that’s not correct. My mind is placid. Save for the bubbles.

A constant stream.  Small packets of thoughts, ideas, concern, joys. Bubbling to the forefront of my mind. Rising like a sparkling effervescence.

There are two people I try and be open with. Sometimes that means being brutally honest. Which has got me into trouble before, hasn’t it? The two? You. And me.

I think I’m being honest with myself. But I have become so polished at covering my tracks when I need to, maybe I’m subconsciously trying to deceive myself.  I don’t think so. I hope not. That would really piss me off.

I’m convinced I’m fine with his time. Whatever you decide you want. When you decide. And I have no problem with our time, how it will be.

I know you wonder. I’ve wondered, too. Some of that carbonation from my brain. I’m convinced everything will be as close to perfect as is possible given the constraints. For me. For us.

But late yesterday it struck me. I’ve really been focused on me, what’s been going on in my heart … then it finally hit me. This is all about you. You are the one needing answers. You need to understand what this is all about. You’re more confused than I am.

We need more bubbles.

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