check my blog, you told me in a casual whatsapp text, after asking me out for lunch, as you always do, and to which i decline, like i always do. okay, i thought, and looked up your blog in the middle of my math lecture which i have started to regard more as lunch hour. your blog loaded, that post loaded, and i drank in your words in one quick gulp, and then i went back to the beginning and read it all again, slowly this time, so i don’t miss anything. i put my phone down and focused on the integrals on the slides, but the numbers and symbols blur and the room diminishes — i can look this up later, i justify, and with that i let the room go and bask in the relief of your words. i thought to write this post; i scribbled it on a lunch napkin, actually. in fact, i’m still in class right now.

last night i was finally exhausted by the constant toil of taking in everyone’s minds but having to keep mine inward. i gave in; i am not as strong a listener as i thought i was, not the gifted listener that kerouac was, did you know he’d listen to his friends with his whole, unwavering attention, and remember what they’d said even years down the road? i want to be like that. it’s a privilege to be allowed into someone’s mind, and i love the privilege so many have given to me.

many nights like the last i am tired and i’d rather go to sleep than surrender to the thought that i need someone to unload my mind on. but last night you texted me at the right time. will you take my mind? is all i wanted to ask. will you just let me the pathetic vulnerable person i am, not your stable anchor of a friend with the listening superpower? will you be that for me tonight?

and i remember that one night i stopped filtering at all, the only night i ever felt free. the inhibitions that govern my waking mind so exhaustingly had fallen out the window, and i spilled it all out, in urgent gibberish — it was as if i could die if i didn’t communicate everything right then. i purged my mind of its infinite unspoken thoughts, and you had stayed there with me, watching me with fascination. i haven’t properly told you how much of a relief it was to finally let my mind go. i don’t want to have to be in that state to do that again, to push the responsibility of my vulnerable state onto something external. to purge and say it wasn’t me, i don’t want that. i want to choose you in my conscious mind right now, and i want you to have this. my fears, my whining, my sentimentality, my romanticisms, in their pure unedited form. have my mind.

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