I am having a massive panic attack at work. Face flushed, heart rate pumping, scrambling around for my Xanax and then realizing I left it at home. Time to write this out, take a walk around the office, and try to calm down. Fuck, its so much harder to do this on my own without the aid of anti-anxiety meds. And what brought this on? ....My own stupidity.
I was killing time, deleting old emails until I came to one from my birthday.... Written a month before Dr X broke up with me. I shouldn't have clicked on it. I should have moved on, or deleted it. But...
A birthday poem to the women I love on her special day. I hope you like it and i hope you know i love you and will always love you because you are Susan and there is only one like you out there. Happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!! xoxoxox
Sonnet 17
by Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way
because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I nor you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep
it is your eyes that close
I.FEEL.LIKE.THROWING.UP.
I.AM.DOING.THIS.TO.MYSELF.
WHY!!!
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