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Johnny Cash on Paradise:

This morning, with her, having coffee.


Hello Sweetheart,

Today I missed you more than usual. We talked on gchat though, but you aren’t mine so I didn’t send you any kisses.

To be honest, when we were together, I didn’t think you were that special. I mean, I didn’t think you could ever be the one, and I thought I might like you just because you were there, and it had been a long time since I’d had someone nice in my life. We didn’t stay up till all hours talking, you were (and are) really cute and the sex was usually pretty great so I wasn’t sure it was a real soul connection, just two people enjoying each other.

The truth is, I did know someone who felt like 7th heaven and the most intimacy I’d ever known for a brief moment, but he was never really mine the way you were. The one night I had with him, I thought his snores were cute and our cuddling bodies fit perfectly. The nights I spent you with, we knew our days together might be limited but they were also just everyday days.

My favorite moment with you has nothing to do with the magic of our meeting, or the best sex of my life, or even when you met my family and they loved you and you loved them and I was jealous of how much you played with my dog instead of spending every second with me.

My favorite memory is the first time I came to your house, and you made me dinner in return for the few times I had made you dinner, at my request, so I could try a typical dish from your country. It was tasty enough but my cooking is better.

We were done eating and having sex and were just sitting on your couch together, in your tiny house you lived all alone that was the same size as the house I grew up in. You put my legs on your lap and I leaned on you and shut my eyes while you watched boxing. I knew I was happy in that moment, but I didn’t realize how special the moment was until after.

And that even though you weren’t the perfect scantron boyfriend, you were really the best I ever had and the one I thought was the One would never be more than a dream, and probably out of kindness completely walked out of my life when I wouldn’t let the dream go. I fought for the dream but I didn’t fight for the imperfect reality of you.

You are not a perfect person to be sure but maybe I did drive you away with my distrust of you ever really liking me. I don’t think I ever gave you a chance to really love me, when I assumed there could never be nothing serious since you didn’t check the boxes and we didn’t come from the same background.

It was really difficult to know we’d have to say goodbye in two months from the moment we met, and I’m not mad we didn’t try to do long distance but like everything, I felt it as a rejection and that I wasn’t good enough.

I missed you so much, and I was so mad every time I doubted you felt the same way.

To think for three years we could have seen each other and neither thought the other was willing.

I can guess why you didn’t want to see me, with the last time we saw each other beign with my prejudiced friend warning me against you and telling me I could do so much better, and I assumed you didn’t really want me anyway.

Well now, here we are.

Maybe we will get another chance someday, maybe we won’t.

But please know, even if I didn’t know it at the time, I really loved you that moment on the sofa. And that time we had breakfast together, awkward, knowing it would be our first and last time to wake up together in your house. You were so beautiful and carefree and it was so sad and you were a little more serious than your usual happy go lucky self I was just beginning to know. And I loved you while you waited for the metro with me, holding my hands in the cold, kissing me with your slightly awkward wolfish kisses that made me feel like a lamb, respectfully though, just for me and not to show the whole world we were together. I didn’t feel the power of your kisses the way I felt the night of kissing with the one who was supposed to be the One, but maybe that was because I was young and not very wise. I didn’t know if you were so precious because I was lonely and it was an experience for the memoirs or because I really liked you, when we had really fallen in love at first sight and I decided to trust you before knowing you then got scared.

It was so much easier to put you in a box, to say you didn’t really want me and I wouldn’t want you for a longer term, and the One was going to work his way back to me and my life would go on as I had planned it. I thought you were a souvenir, and were too precious and rare and strange to be my everyday cup of happiness.

I’m sure if I want paradise, I will have to throw away the original box that has the cushion for the memory and ensures it can safely be displayed but just for the season.

I’m so happy you fell off the shelf and into my life once more, and so happy these precious moments weren’t so fragile, after all this time.