December 10, 2025
im bad, hes worse, we’re already dead.
it’s complicated. we are complicated.
not just the ocean between us or the language.
but it’s in that slightly haunted look in our eyes that comes through in photographs and on facetime.
was it our dead fathers and our crucifixes that bridged those gaps?
hard to find love these days as a reluctant believer or a deranged dreamer.
he never loved someone before.
“jag älskar dig” he says.
”min älskling” he says.
”min ängel” he says.
i give him a silver cross necklace and cut his hair with a knife my friend made.
we kiss in airports and at costco and over fika.
he left clothes in my closet and i can’t look at them for too long or i get emotional.
he sends me a love letter. he never misses a “good morning babe” text. he likes me when im crazy or crying or rageful or content.
he disarms me with just a word.
how is it that ive come to love an aries?
a big mean ram unbothered by the churn of the water that pours out of my mouth and my eyeballs in equal measure.
heavy horns on his head like a crown, this man. all that swedish logic and silence.
my therapist asked me who my bridge was.
and it’s him.
this aries from sundsvall.
hospital vespers 