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I've never seen your face, sparing that one moment you left it up and sent it to only me, I saw your eyes, though out-of-date, i saw, i looked, and thought really just how perfectly fitted to their canvas they seemed. I imagine what they've seen. Where they drift to when you are listening.

I suppose i saw them That One Time, when he drank the white russians and I drank the gin, i was wearing stripes and red buttons. Puffy shoulders - and i still liked to straighten my hair. They argued in the living room. It was a mixing of the host's two facades, i don't even know if she was aware. I certainly wasn't at the time. We were all just being honest, at least as honest as we were capable of being then, even to ourselves. The music was bad. You stayed in the kitchen, he spoke to you. Had I known you were there (now) I would have. But I'm glad I didn't. I would have been embarrassed. Still, I wonder what got you out of the house then. Surely now, it would be a much better trip.

You have a way. I can feel you. I felt you before you ever directed your text toward me, or rather, before I asked you to. You never speak unless spoken to, and you really only give and never ask to get. and I know you have heard this before. You are one that receives praise a lot, I know. Though your own honesty and alertness for your surroundings prohibits you from feeling this truth from others. I know you think their applause is their way of keeping you up so it hurts less when you fall down, but... if you only knew. Really.

I love your alliterated words and the way you piece sounds together so that they evoke a sick sensation even i can get myself to feel. I feel so flowery and flowing and fucking fantastic, really. Words very rarely touch me, despite my over-eager willingness to purge, I rarely feel a thing from others'. You don't know the weight, but I know you will, one day. You can't see the beauty of your own language, just yet. I will make you see. What is it with me? This eagerness to pick up what i deem broken and mend and stitch and, I swear, I don't want the credit. I don't even think you're broken. With the others, thats what I thought it was, but I don't. I promise I don't. Not with you. I just want you to feel beautiful, for a moment. Beauty is only momentary, after all. I want you to see beauty now, see yours. I know you can hear it. You know its there but you don't even know you create it. You will see. Even if i have to kidnap you (i will), you will see. We will sit in a room walled with sound from option and fingers and you will watch, apprehensively at first, you will want to dive in, i know you will want to. And like the time I walked into that back room of my house on the hill and watched them tap on things with the lamp on, amazed by their willingness to exist that way in light; you will, too.

It wasn't until i'd emerged from the dark that I realized I am still afraid of it.

From a different world you and i, and him, and her, especially her, i know how much you love her. Funny how often your name is mentioned in your absence. Or, is it absence? Surely it feels like you are around now. I don't know that you can be absent when your body was never there, or, here. But you're here now. At least we like to talk about you as if you will be, soon. I want you to know that I will never pretend to know your pain, but I will always be willing to distract. Your willingness to sit and listen is one of your many distinctions. So few are blessed with this rare marvel, and you have lent it to me so much I would willingly give you a limb. I would cut it off my self. I can't count the amount of times I've cried. Honesty. You are honesty. Perturbed little piece of stink in front of you, that of which you talk about so often, the make up of yourself, as you so bluntly think. That furry little set of eye balls that watch your every move. I've never seen him but I know he's there. (I was just kidding when I said I didn't believe you). I am so glad that he's there. I know he is glad for you too. I am glad for you. Even if i never see your face (i will), I will always be glad for you. You think you have seen every inch of you but I haven't seen your mouth move, and I know it will move differently from how you expect, I know I won't be disappointed. I can't be. I want you to meet her. I want you to meet me. No, I want to meet you. I want to touch you. I want you to show me all the things that are broken about you and I want to watch them mend. I want to sit in silence and watch you struggle to find the words. I want you to look at us while we see your face realize that we don't need any. That we'll never need any.

I miss you today, and I don't even know you(r face)

(but i know you).