day by day

i write.

you ask me
"what does love feel like for you?"
i reply
"it feels like sitting by a fire on a cold night. but not quite being warmed by it. but just enough so that you're not shivering. it feels like a lukewarm shower after a cold day outside. it feels like being content but always wanting more.
whereas being in love feels like all the warmth in the world is just floating around in your body. like taking a hot bath after being thrown in a snow bank. like being happy and satisfying and never searching for more. feeling fireworks when they kiss you. or being home in their arms. it feels like safety. a safe haven."
"now, for you, in your relationships, what does it look like"
"keaton was a hotel. a place i would stop to rest but never really felt like home. i was content but not happy. he scared me. the thought of leaving him scared me into staying.
alfie was a home. but not my home. yknow? like when you're so comfortable somewhere that it feels like home but it's not your home so it doesn't feel the same. i was happy but not satisfied.
james was my home. i was happy i was satisfied. he was it. i felt fireworks and warmth. he was my love.
tristan is home. tristan is a hot bath on a cold day. tristan is freshly shaved legs on clean sheets. tristan is clean warm clothes. he's everything good. he's happiness and love. " i say,
you chuckle and look at me, "you say it as if it's a poem"
"i can't help it," i say and look you in the eyes, "i write."