set Saturdays to John West’s Lovely,
fresh fruits in bed, long drives with our hands intertwined,
kisses in the back seat of a movie, stealing moments away from the crowd,
can I just say,
it’s been fucking great knowing you without the social media trail?
And the questions I want to know about you are always directed to you,
not to friends, or ghosts from the past?
Can I just confess,
that you give me feelings,
feelings that make me say “Where have you been all my life?”
What happens when you fall in love?
Is it like tetris?
You maneuver the pieces until they fit.
But, no matter how long I play, no matter how calm
the moment always comes when the pieces fall faster,
panic sets in, and the game ends with a final piece that just… doesn’t fit.
“But my brain felt crowded, as if I couldn’t hear myself think; I longed to wake up in my own bed in the morning, with my own thoughts. And I wanted more mystery, too, more of a sense that we were separate people with our own lives and interests who were choosing to spend the evening together because we wanted to, not because we were too lazy to leave the house..
For celebrity endorsements, look no further than Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton, who keep side-by-side townhouses in London; Anita Hill and her long-term boyfriend, Chuck Malone, who maintain separate houses in Massachusetts; and the 2010 National Book Award winner, Jaimy Gordon, whose husband, Peter Blickle, lives a 20-minute stroll away—most evenings she walks her dog over to his place. Through the 1980s, Mia Farrow and Woody Allen commuted back and forth across uptown Manhattan (of course, that didn’t end very well). The arrangement naturally suits artists and writers (see Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera; Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre), who tend to have deep appetites for solitude. ”
