Now imagine there's this person that you are absolutely insane about, and you can never see them.

Alright you can see them, for one hour a month under surveillance. Maximum security. But not as much as you want, never as much as you want. You don't want to see movies or go skiing with them, no, you just want to BE with them. Preferably for hours on end, with a lockable door and a soft warm bed. Maximum security doesn't like that though. You need a reason to see them. "I just need to tell them how much I love them" is not an appropriate reason. Neither is "I need to taste their lips and taste them again the second I forget how they taste like". Reasons like "I need to squeeze and hold them." are even worse. They are mediocre, sappy and will get maximum security all mad. You can never tell the truth or what's on your mind to maximum security. With maximum security your reasons need to be really really good (lies).

The only good reasons are when the reason isn't based on that person you are crazy about. That person always has to be an aside. You know the "I was going by and I thought you might want to...". It's a lie; the only reason you left house in the first place was to see them. You've gone through a snowstorm to see a movie with them, and you're trying to convince security you came for the movie. You watch the movie instead of talking to not blow your cover. You want to know what's been worrying them, what's been going on, but security is always there, watching.

So you text to make up for lost time. You try to be as normal as possible by text, while cutting your thoughts into 140 characters and using very obvious words for sarcasm, but it doesn't feel right. You can't see someone smile over text. You can't hear them laugh. You can't smell their hair, feel their skin, hear their heartbeat. You can't be whimsical, quirky or wear an awesome hat. You can't talk with your hands. You can't be rendered speechless, you can't be at loss of words. You can't cry. You can't have emotions. You can't be human. You can't be you.

But you text like there's no tomorrow, hundreds of messages a day. Texting about the retarded and the wise, about the nonsense and the important, about the stuff they don't even remotely need to know. You text to know they are there. You text because even though it's so little of what they really are, it's something. You need that little something, that glimmer of their soul. It's what keeps that retarded grin on your face. It's what makes you smile in your sleep.

And slowly, but not that slowly, it kills you. It's what you get for eating crumbs instead of meals. You want more of them. You want the whole damn thing. You want them in the flesh, including the creases, and god do you want to be alone with them.

You can't be with them though, because, well, face it kid, god hates you.

So you wait for far too long for the thing that's worth the most waiting for. You keep waiting for a time that there will be no time limit. You keep waiting for a room with a lockable door and a warm comfy bed. A time when you can be you.

I love you Vik,
Brent