I love you with a powerful, transformative, radical love. I love you like revolutionaries fighting for the same cause on opposite sides of the globe recognize and love each other. I am so grateful you exist and that I get to know you exist. I love you with the purest, most erotic, mundane, potent, magical, ordinary, creative, and ideal love. I would sacrifice for this love, not just for you, but for all of us. I know you would too. We’re simpatico. I know we can’t be together, but I want to lend you some of my life force. I want you to keep living, keep fighting. I send you my breath, my fire (lots of fire!), my tears for water, my body for calm, stable earth. I send you my thoughts, my words. I send you my hope when you’re hopeless. Can you feel it? I send you my dreams, my own fears, my own weakness. I send you my mistakes and I accept your silent comfort. I feel your embrace through space and time, just as warm as a physical embrace. I feel you in my heart and soul, Baby. I hope you feel me too. I feel your camaraderie, Comrade. I feel your humor: the best weapon we’ve got. I feel your laughter and your sexy bravado. I feel it when you’re pumped up and full of yourself, full of vigor! I feel you too when you’re down and you want to give up. Don’t give up. I feel when you feel washed out, used up, angry, and hopeless. Take a rest then. It’s ok. I’ll take a turn. It’s all in my imagination maybe? Ok, so what? That’s enough for me. Any little part of you is enough for me, whatever you share, I’ll take it and expand it and share it some more. Because you inspire me and you make me come alive. You are exactly the type of person that makes life worth living for me. Your love is what makes me strong. And that’s what matters. Nothing else does. Keep being you over there across the ocean and I’ll keep being me over here. I wish we could be more than that, closer than that. Sometimes that wish is overwhelming. It hurts. Sometimes I just want to bury this love and pretend I don’t feel it anymore. I get mad that I can’t let go of you; I can’t forget you and the feelings you inspire in me. I even hate you sometimes because I can’t get free of you. It feels like a hopeless trap. But I can’t. And anyway: That’s not the answer. So I will live this hurt, as a form of love. That’s all I can do, and I’ll do what I can do. Because surrender isn’t an option. Viva la revolution.
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