the idler wheel is wiser than the driver of the screw
and whipping cords will serve you more than ropes will ever do
what is the true jaw-ripping face of intimacy? the aglets on your shoelaces falling apart as they hit the pavement while you walk. the birds flying away when you get too close. the pressure you have to put on the button of your camera before it gives and the shutter clicks. tearing apart cardboard boxes, ripping through the packaging tape. a lover's chest is similar.
i'm scared. of a lot of things, generally. bees, filing my nails down too far and having to feel the raw skin when i touch anything, spilling a drink on my laptop - but we don't need a comprehensive list here. i don't like to be close to people. i don't like feeling warm and excited when you touch me. i don't like running my fingers up and down the side of your hand. it's been like this a while, and sometimes i get to a point of tolerance. i'll do this for you, i tell myself. i'll tie myself into knots so youy can feel my love, as much as it makes me feel like i'm constantly on fire.
i just lied. a lot. i'm sorry to break the trust we've worked so hard to build, reader, but i forgive you. i've stared into the stark, cold face of intimacy a thousand times before and i feel a lot of disgust, usually. to be tied down by some beast like that feels deeply wrong to me, something i should never do. "but it's all you say you're searching for!" you might say. or, "what's the point of all this love talk if that's how you really feel?" and i'm not sure a lot of the time honestly. to feel truly close to someone is very much an uphill battle for me, and a selfless one at that. to fight to make a loved one feel my love, that's a lot of what gives me drive here. it seems almost unwinnable and inconceivable to want something for myself. that i might one day serve someone better than they could ever serve me.
this is all very bleak, you might think. and it is. i'm a hopeless person a lot of the time, but something persists still. something in me knows these walls will come down. that binding myself with your rope is no path to victory over what i wrestle with every day. it's better to be nagged and scratched and bitten than made incapacitated. someday, someday, you will find yourself wrapped in chains that feel warmer than anything anyone ever tried to imprison you with. you will be caught in a storm you know you need no shelter from. and i know you're wise enough to let it happen.