It matters because you are where i want to be right now. It matters because your smell is still in my nose, and i can almost taste you. your perfect imperfections. I woke up very early to find a little message of longing from you. I finished cleaning my now-too-empty place, and went to get coffee — The coffee place was closed. In Williamsburg the hipsters need their beauty sleep. A band of undisturbed pigeons took charge of the street in front of my house. Bought grain coffee (“Illy” — i felt like regular people, i tell you.) Well, you can’t win them all. Listening to my Schubert and thinking about your expensive smile, that start from a small wrinkle, the wrinkle as a synecdoche of your face, body and personality.

I think about where you must be, on a Sunday afternoon in Tel Aviv. How this impacts your life? This thing that was nothing one minute and became so much the next.

You, Sitting in the perfect light with a curtain on you and a disturbed aura of shiny orange hair, half closed eyes, giving me the impression i am witnessing an erotic miracle happen. Lighting a cigarette, smoke hugs your face, and a light smell of lust and sweat… I am still not sure what happened in my life, how profound is this experience. Yesterday you made me stop being afraid of what i have been afraid of for years. You opened a gentle door for me to go into, to trust you. I had this on my mind since, and i trust you.

I have the need in me, I don’t ignore it, i want to give it space — to acknowledge the need, the hunger, the hole that asks for you and wants to use you as a band aid — Doing this robs you of your personality, opinion and desire and renders you useless — makes you an object for my desire to cover the need. Which is why i am writing here, and talking to myself about it, aware and awake to the fact that you are trustworthy and i am desirable. That the words you say have meaning in the world, in reality and you are a person of integrity. I need this, but i think i need to believe you more than i needed before. i feel that if i didn’t believe you it’ll break down soon — i’ll break it down soon.

Looking at the mirror. I have been awake for a few hours now, the jetlag makes me jump like a tiger, but i have been wasting my time on looking at facebook. Now in front of my work. My chest has a big bruise, and a few scratches from you. I want them to stay on my flesh like military decorations, a a fixed reminder of our week in your apartment. Too little time to call it love, but too big of a love to consider time.

I am jealous for the first time. I know you have nothing to do with it, it’s not about you, it’s about me, and how i feel about you — do i LOVE you? i don’t know. I think about someone else right now, someone who made me feel the same before. I smoke. I shouldn’t, because i cough so often now. When i die of cancer this line will mean something. I cough, i run, i listen to you.

It has been three and a half weeks since i met you, it seems like years. I know you inside and out, yet i am not even sure if i pronounce your name correctly. Who are you? what the fuck am i going to do when you disappear? When you decide this is too much? than again, why would you ever say no to me, to the person who makes you feel love, and loved? am i acting, am i honest? i am. Both.

I think about you in Tel Aviv, In the arms of another man. I know you sleep alone right now. I know that, but i am afraid — Of losing you, of you losing me. You threw me out again two days ago. i was ready to tell you to fuck off, to go. I was ready to let this all go to shit, and keep my pride. but i didn’t — i am afraid of when i forget today, and let the pride consume me. Of that day when who you are is no longer important and only who you are to me is important. When it is no longer about love, but about who we are in front of that supposed love. I feel contempt now. for me, for you, for Flora. How sad will be to lose you because i didn’t handle my past? how much of my past are you, Carrot cake? Why it’s only me to send you unprompted kisses. Don’t you want to send me kisses? aren’t we equal? You are afraid — I AM FUCKING AFRAID. I hold you, sure. But who holds me? eh?

Fuck that. I wanna be safe. But NO! i want you. So strong it’s embarrassing.

Was a weird distance this morning, you were in a plane, flying from my Tel Aviv to my Paris. I miss you, i miss you i miss you — i feel it in my body, i feel it strong, somewhere between fear and comfort — Having someone, but not having them.

I keep thinking about you. Today thinking about you hurts — yesterday it was a delight — But i feel. I love to feel. I am full of love and tenderness to you. OH.MY.GOD — This’ll hurt like a motherfucker. i am not afraid. We can make so it doesn’t hurt, i promise. This is what they write about. This is what they go to wars for, and sing songs about.

My chest is light, my heart heavy. You are not here. I miss you.

You said you felt close — this morning in the plane. All the noise around you, and you felt, physically how you missed my touch, my lips. I felt far, i felt you were cold and away. Maybe it’s because i was feeling afraid of that, not having you here, touching your neck, your back. feeling you. White and orange, like a carrot cake. Come to me, will you? Come, stay. I need also your optimism, not only that worry and fear. It’s hard, to maintain this in love and optimist version of me, and still, there is a crack in it, and you can see the fear right through. I need someone to hold me as well. I think of the screenshots i took of you. you are white, and dark, and orange, and lying down, and after the shower. I want you Putain Merde! Je n’arrive pas de te dire tout ça — sans panser de notre future ( tant impossible ensamble, n’est ce pas?)

Tu me manque, Nicola, mais en méme temps je te connais pas. C’est bizzare. La derniere foie que cest m’arrove cetait avec Flora, avec qui je reste pendant pas mal de temps. Tu me manque putain.

We are so careful — each to himself and then with each other: “Are you ok?” “What do you think?” “Why are you silent?” “I’ll tell you later” “I’m Afraid you’ll go” — I want to grab you, in your ass — sink my fingers in your flesh, and lick you and bite you and declare: “You are mine, and i am yours!” — I am not afraid, you are mine! and instead i answer the phone so shyly, and ask “Is it all ok?” you told me not to tell you “You have me” — you don’t want to hear. What’s wrong with that? it’s the LOVE that hurts? I think it’s the other way around. Don’t tell me not to say. This is the truth. This is what is going on. To lose you will be a catastrophe. I’ll make it through the other side. It’s not my first rodeo. My heart was broken more than once… nevertheless, Losing you is not something i am prepared to do now. And i expect you to not lose me. and it’s harder than usually. But maybe this is why it happened now, to us?