#ETA: Ive just shared some of these thoughts w a friend and he dsnt understand me

[vulnerasti-cor-meum]

I have in my heart all these life stories from lovers of mine, and well, how in one's mind heart or soul does one honor and do justice to these stories and memories of/from persons with whom one has been intimate and tender -- inasmuch as such "relationships" can be intimate and tender (I think they can). Like what do I do with this information, information before which I feel helpless and yet want to make part of myself. There's a kind of weird ineffable regret and burden and gift all bundled together in knowing ppl, their stories, so deeply and yet so incompletely

(Ive had about three lovers w whom I feel this way, but one among them in particular and far more than the rest. I think Im still in love with him maybe in some small part (what does that even mean?) though my weeks-long lovesickness aching and ailments have subsided and whatever rship this was has petered out. Perhaps one day I'll have a lover who becomes a boyfriend, but I suspect not sometime soon)