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"Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano."

You're my volcano. Or am I the volcano? I can get angry, probably angrier than you. When I get mad it's heated. It's on. But when you get mad it's a cool anger. It's you ignoring me or giving me more reasons to hate myself without saying anything. You let it sink in with me. If there's something to be said, I'll hit you with it, but you let it settle and it hurts worse because it takes longer.

You're my tornado, then. But you're not as destructive as a tornado. You don't destroy everything in your path, you just destroy me. You do, though, have a talent for sweeping me off my feet and then letting me fall back to earth. Hard. I break bones each time, my heart shatters like never before. It's a new experience with ever lift and drop. It's never the same.

You force of nature you. On a good day I could compare you to a sky. The sky. I could compare you to the sky I see above my head when I lay in the grass on a night in July when I don't care about bug bites or the fact that it's getting a little chilly out because I'm looking at you. Maybe I missed something. Maybe the star I thought you were went supernova on my ass and now you're a black hole.

That's it. You're a black hole. You draw me in further and further, your event horizon is so tantalizing but I know that I will die if I go into your world. I die every time I see you, dearest. I die every time I don't see you.

I'm not calling you a liar. Really, I'm not. I don't think you believe me. I will say that if given the opportunity you will deny that you said anything to me. I will say that I think you're very concerned with saving face. You don't like labels that are too normal, but you also don't like being that close to counter-culture. I know you love me. You can't take it back. I know you're in love with me. You can't take that back either.

That must be what you're scared of. You're scared of the fact that you can't go back and clarify and quantify. Sometimes I envy you for being a scientist and an atheist. I wish I could be a nonbeliever on my worst days, just like anyone else who keeps the faith. But when I see what all those physics and chemicals and genetics have done to your soul, and what you in turn do to me, I'm glad that I can be called nothing short of romantic. I'm romantic about G-d, I'm romantic about myself, I'm romantic about you.

What, you didn't realize I was romancing you?

This is what you do. You shut the FUCK down. You never want to talk about this. It's like how you never want to be with me but when I go away you miss me. Am I comparable to a drug? Cos you're mine. And I don't mean my drug. I'll let you figure that one out. I already know what it means and sometimes it's nice to watch you have to solve things for yourself.

You'll get it right, though. You always do. I don't have to tell you that though, because you don't want for confidence, like I want for confidence. Like I want for you when you're not there, when you let me alone to realize how dependent on you I am. I think you run little experiments and trials on me. I think you let me squirm and panic to see how long I can take it. I think I love you. I even go so far to mask my love for you as love for other people. I pretend that I love people other than you as much as I love you.

See how it goes? I try to be rational and like you. I try to be perfect like you, and it doesn't work. Don't you get it? We fit together. WE'RE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER. But for some reason G-d saw fit to put every conceivable, fitting obstacle on the road from me to you. I say "fitting" because we haven't faced every obstacle, we've just faced the ones that get in my way. Maybe I'm the only one who's faced them. Maybe I'm the only one who's suffered. Maybe you don't care.

Can I tell you a secret?

I want to make you cry one day.

I want to make you cry while I'm there not because I've been mean, but because I want to have said something so beautiful and moving that you can't ignore it and it hits you right in the heart. I don't think it'll ever happen because we're going to move on. We'll never be. We can't. We're so star-crossed that we almost remind me of the supernova that you've become – when you exploded, you sent all my sparks flying and we're not one anymore.

I've told various people that I wish they understood me, or that I wish they would never forget what once happened between us, or that I want the best for them in their lives, or that I don't want them to ever change. None of those apply to you. You do understand me, which is why you both love me and hate me so much. You can't forget what happened between us because I know you lie in bed and regret it almost as much as I wish it would happen again. I don't have to want the best for you, because you'll make the best happen for you. You're a go-getter.

And I do want you to change, but only in one way. I want you change in your thinking in a microscopic way, but that string will shift enough that you realize that I've always loved you; that I don't understand myself but I understand you, that I will never forget what happened between us because it's become a part of me, that I don't want the best for myself in my life because I'm already wishing for the best in yours (despite how useless that wishing may be), and I would kill to change myself.

But more than that, I would kill to have you tell me that you don't want me to change at all, simply because you love me not at all different from who I am.