When Bonnie’s off to work it breaks

My heart just like a stone…

Cuz deep inside I realize

That every man’s alone…

And if each man’s an island then,

My hen must be Loch Ness…

I see her so informally

It causes me distress…

Aye, when she finally surfaces

It’s like a sweet sunrise…

Invigorates teutonic plates…

Beglamours ancient eyes…

She’s by my bink…She’s on the brink…

She’s coming up fur air!…

The black frost of my birk’s so wide…

Her gaze is long and fair!…

Like Cairngorm that’s baked in sun…

Alas she’s gone to tide!…

I doubt I see bricht face so long…

A tishie fur my pride!…

When Bille’s at the dock, bass cocks

Will crane an shift they necks…

As deep inside I ’ave espied

Each wank in time collects…

And half a lady fine as I

May be his work time bit…

Raises strain to cause brak skin

Bidden of more spit…

Mislaid boots darken my door

When will he busk my way?…

So shirley ill need brandy soon…

It’s by mysel I stray…

He’s by my bink…He’s on the brink…

He’s coming up fur air!…

The black frost of my birk’s so wide…

I feel his longing stare!…

Like Cairngorm that’s baked in sun…

Alas he’s gone to tide!…

He burns my howk when he is gone…

A tishie fur my pride!…

When Bonnie’s off to work it breaks

My heart with crashing farce…

She cannot see the state of I…

She’s fallen off my carse…

And though she’s just a mile away

She’s gone to her awerd...

As down I plummet gracelessly,

A waly to the bards…

With one eye on my watch and all

The thunner overhead,

It’s hard to think an that, an that

With my poor Bonnie dead…

She’s by my bink…She’s on the brink…

She’s coming up fur air!…

The black frost of my birk’s so wide…

Her gaze is long and fair!…

Like Cairngorm that’s baked in sun…

Alas she’s gone to tide!…

I doubt I see bricht face so long…

A tishie fur my pride!…

Edit #2

3/6/25

Bunny Villaire

(Help from Alex Newton on inspiring a few lines)

To my future spouse,

Thank you for maybe existing, I truly appreciate it. I need to hope someone will love me again someday. I hope you’re doing better than I am socially, so maybe I can just hijack your friend group the way I had Lucius’ in high school.

I know, it’s kind of sad my only relationship so far has been three months my freshman year of high school. I needed that independence afterwards, though, and I am not completely alone: I do have friends from university I have kept in touch with, and I even have a job now, so not all my socializing is internet or phone based. An unfortunate amount is, but not all.

And who knows? Maybe we will start as an internet based interaction before blossoming into some people whose lives can intertwine.

I’m on a dating app, Boo, but somehow I doubt that that’s where our worlds will collide. I don’t even know if you exist though, so I’m just throwing as many opportunities to connect into the universe as I can without opening myself up to danger.

Yeah, it’s hard to know what to say to someone who might not even exist. I love you or will probably love you, and I don’t want to ruin that. It would be kinda cute if maybe I met you via this Prose post, but I’m not holding my hopes very high that that’ll be our path-crossing either. Maybe I just have no idea how relationships start anymore now that school is not exactly a facilitator in the equation.

Unless we meet in grad school, which would be brilliant. Spouse-spouse entomologist teams tend to write books together, and interesting papers.

Hopefully this will inspire someone to give me a chance,

Felix

Hello, sweet man,

We started out at a walk and covered a great distance. Between the parties and the games, the work life balance and the big move across the country, we have been tested. I fell, you lifted me up. You fell and I raised your spirits. I couldn't ask for a better partner; a more devoted love. I know things have been hard. Things get harder every year, and last years challenges seem like a breeze today. We've merged into one, perfect being. Your eyes, my nose, you're ears, my stubborn streak, your empathy. Our son is the sun. He loves the moon and we swoon over him. My love for him cements my love for you. Your are the best husband and father. This challenge isn't for the faint of heart. We've faced trial by fire and have not let the world conquer our resolve. I admire that in you, that you never give up. You're for me and I for you. I still drown in the pools of your blue eyes. I still have the giddy tingles in my stomach when we lock gazes. All of your hard work to uplift our family only makes your good looks all the more devastating. I would choose you for a million lifetimes. I would choose you if you lost it all. If you fall, I'll catch you. And you know that.

With all my heart

M

I love your laugh which exudes such warmth and joy.

The slight pout of your lips when you play at being coy.

The invitation offered in your captivating glances.

The curve of your mouth and all that it enhances.

I love the way that you gesture oh so expressively.

When your strong arms embrace me oh so protectively.

And the way that you listen- sincere and intently.

Your loving hands holding mine so very gently.

I love hearing the things you share that are on your mind.

And seeing kindness and thoughtfulness shining in your eyes.

Your kisses touch my soul and often leave me breathless.

My love for you is forever, it will always be endless.

As the wind picks up, I shiver and huddle deeper into my coat. Adam shoves his hands deep into his pockets, and we give each other awkward smiles and commiserate about the cold.

The rest of the youth group has wandered off in groups, leaving us stuck with each other, and I can’t decide how to feel about that. I had always been closer to the upperclassmen in the group, but now that I was a high school senior and they had all graduated, I was left with the few in my class that I wasn’t very close with and the underclassmen that I didn’t know well.

And then there is Adam, who's also a senior. He doesn’t come to youth group activities often, unless his friend Brad drags him along like he did tonight. I feel bad that Brad dragged him out and then left him, so I invite him to walk around with me.

Our youth leaders have decided to take us out to a place called Christmas Village; it’s set up like a miniature town decorated with lights and trees and reindeer. It’s cute, but I’m not sure either me or Adam would have chosen this as an activity had we been asked.

But we make the best of it, trying to get to know each other as we walk around to keep warm.

“So, what are you doing after you graduate?” I ask him.

“I’m going to Pittsburg to get a degree in computer programming,” he tells me. “What about you?”

I crane my neck to look up at him. I’m not a petite girl – average height and a little chubby, but Adam towers over me. I don’t think of him as fat, just big – 6’3” and broad. But he’s soft-spoken, and he seems gentle, like a big teddy bear.

“I’m staying close to home at a small college. I was thinking about getting a degree in creative writing, but the more I think about it, the more I think I should get a practical degree.”

“You want to be a writer?”

“Yeah, I’ve been taking creative writing classes for a couple of years now, and I won a poetry contest a few years ago. I want to write novels, but I should probably have a full-time job in the meantime, because I’m definitely not going to get published right away.”

He shrugs. “You never know. What would you major in if not creative writing?”

“I’m thinking about English and Education, being an English teacher.”

“I could see you as a teacher.”

“Really?” I ask. “I’ve always thought I’d make a bad teacher.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have any patience, especially when I’ve explained something multiple times, and the other person still doesn’t get it. That’s not a great trait for a teacher.”

He shrugs again. “I don’t know. I think you could do it. Kids would probably love you!”

I blush, and then he suggests we get some hot chocolate to warm us up. I agree, and we sip our hot chocolate as we admire the pretty lights and laugh at the silly Christmas scenes. At some point along the way, I notice one of my sneakers has come untied. I look down at my shoe and then at my half-drunk cup of hot chocolate, trying to figure out how to tie my shoe with one hand.

“I can hold that for you,” Adam says. I’m not sure why, but the gesture strikes me as exceedingly sweet. I hand him my cup and kneel to tie my shoe. When I stand, he holds out my cup, waiting patiently for me to take it from him.

Nothing we said that night was particularly romantic or deep or thought-provoking, and though my high school self felt some level of attraction, I never would have dreamed what that night could lead to - that five years later, the two of us would stumble upon each other again after we both had the chance to grow up a little, and eventually fall in love and get married. If you had told me that night that I was talking to my future spouse, I doubt I would have believed you, but all the same, I’m so glad we had that first talk that set the stage for many more conversations to come.

Tell me, John, once and for all. Did you refuse medical care because you wanted to die?

The pain was overwhelming. It was sucking all the joy out of my life. That is not the way I wanted to live. I wanted to enjoy my time with you and the kids, and after a while, I couldn’t even do that.

Maybe a doctor could have helped you. I never would have given up the search. I would have searched the rest of my life so we could bring you to a doctor who is successful with chronic pain. In the meantime, the pain hid your heart condition, and we could have gotten that taken care of too. You gave up.

Not exactly. I fought with every ounce of my being until the end. I was just fighting the wrong thing.

What about all the things we were able to resolve before you died? Sometimes, I wonder if you did this because you were planning for your death.

You said it yourself. Sometimes, I followed my instincts, and I don’t know what drove them a lot of times. My instincts in this case drove me to resolving everything with you. This way, all that was left was love and forgiveness at the end.

I haven’t forgiven you yet for dying on me and the kids.

I know.

I think I have the best reason for being angry.

I know. But, now, you are free.

I didn’t want to be free from you. I wanted to simply continue to enjoy your company.

Don’t cry. Haven’t you done enough of that?

Shut up.

Now I get to take care of your instead of you taking care of me. My death freed you of constantly having to work. I am always here. I will always support you. It’s my turn to take care of you.

I hear you moving things around the room every night, right around where I keep your ashes. It’s either that, or we have some big rats.

Hahah! Giant rats. Yeah, that’s it.

How do I know that this is even you? I could be wishing this conversation was real. If I told anyone how much I really talk to you every day, like you’re still here, they would probably think I am just a poor, old widow hallucinating from grief.

None of that is true. Do you know what is true?

Hmmm?

My love for you. The fact that I am still here. It’s real.

It doesn’t help that I am still mad at you.

I know. I hope I can help you get over that one day.

It’s just frustrating. I want to be aware of you all the time, like you’re still here, and it hasn’t been happening like that. Every day, I feel you slipping farther and farther away. I feel farther from you, at least.

I’m not. I’m just a thought away. I transitioned. You have to transition with me. You have to adjust. I know you’re not happy with it, but it’s our reality at the moment.

I am afraid if I heal, I won’t hear you anymore. I am afraid that if I heal, you’ll be gone.

I won’t be. You’ll be able to connect with me more strongly. Grief is the process of letting go. A lot of times, people hang onto their sadness and anger because they are afraid of letting go of the last thing they have from that person, the sadness over the loss. It’s just an illusion created by the sadness part of grief.

What if I remarry?

I will share you. Haven’t I always?

…

It’s good to see you laugh a bit.

You have always been funny.

Our connection during life was strong. That connection doesn’t die when the body dies. Love and memories are the only things that remain after death. I will always be here with you. I will always love you.

I am sorry that my love for you couldn’t save you. I prayed every day.

I am saved. I have no more pain. It just wasn’t in a physical sense, like you wanted. Unfortunately, it was not possible to save my broken body. It was too far gone.

I know. I don’t like this. This sucks so badly. I used to think I could handle anything.

You can.

I’m having a lot of trouble handling your death.

I know.

We were supposed to grow really old together. I’m still going to kill you when I get to heaven for dying so early.

I know that too. You would tell me that every once in a while: If you die first, I’ll kill you.

At the time, it seemed funny. Now, not so much.

I’m sorry. When you die, and we are together, you can kill me if it makes you feel better.

See? You said you weren’t a writer like me, but you just created the perfect example of verbal irony.

…

I’m sorry you couldn’t live out your dreams.

I appreciate everything you did to help support me. Besides, those dreams were just things I personally enjoyed doing, so they weren’t real dreams. My real dream was you and the kids. …

Stop crying. You’ll get a headache again.

Too late.

My love, I have a wish for you. I hope that every time you think of me, you’ll smile and laugh instead of cry.

I will try my dear husband. I will try. I promise.

You were right in a sense. There were days I wanted to die because the pain was so bad.

Yeah. J. J. told me you said that to him one day over a decade ago, when he was still a kid. He kept that secret for you all these years, waiting until after your death to share it with me. That wasn’t fair to him, you sharing that with him.

I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell my best friend, you.

I can see why.

How many people tried to break us apart?

Many.

I wouldn’t even allow the pain to drive us apart. I stuck around for as long as I possibly could.

…

You’re doing great with the kids.

Thanks. It’s easy. I just think of what you would do, and I do it. It seems to be the right call every single time.

Get some sleep, now. You have an early day tomorrow.

Okay. I will. Goodnight, my love.

I’ll see you and love you, always and forever.

You exist, do you? I won't pretend I'm not surprised. You'll be beautiful, certainly. I'll marvel at your every spot and sway for the rest of the time we get together, you know. I hope you know. I hope I tell you how much you amaze me every day.

What gender are you? Don't tell me, it'll ruin the surprise. If I marry a man, it would shock me because I don't really like em in that way, now do I? Much as I try to tell myself to. If I marry a woman, I'll be shocked because I'm technically "not supposed to". Every other gender in this strange void full of stars we live in is welcome, I suppose. After all, no matter what I think now, falling in love and being loved back is a rather pretty thing.

I hope we take good care of each other. I am... A weak thing, at times. An animal scrapping at the ground for water to drink. I don't need the water, mind you, I'm just desperate to taste something that isn't sand. So I keep mawing at it, filling my mouth with more dust, hoping for... Something more. For you? I might put you on a pedestal. I might try to use you as a way to avoid myself from time to time. Don't let me.

I'm sure I will love you. Please love me. Completely as I am. That's all I've missed from my family. Full acceptance. I'm never quite enough to them. So I never learnt how to be enough to myself. How to face the being in the mirror and genuinely shrug with a slight nod on my head. I know I'm just another person but it's easy to forget, isn't it, that everything that makes me feel strange and awkward and unworthy is everything that makes me human?

I...

I'm not doing too well right now, friend, lover, future. I hope I'm better there. I hope you are kind to me. I cannot take any more cruelty. Just a bit and I will want to run for the goddamn hills. Move to a forest and never look back. Dissolve into film and fiction like I always do. Whenever you can, hold my hand when I try to escape and remind me that it can be safe in reality too. I forget that sometimes.

And if you ever leave me... It will hurt me like hell. So please don't unless there's a good reason. Please dear gods, let there not be a good reason. I don't want to find out that I grew up anxious, left that behind with my compassion alongside it and turned into an asshole. So love me. As I will love you. Let's pretend everything is okay for a little while. Let us dissolve into this fantasy where it's only us, our cats and our mountains of books against the fucking world.

You, me and Maggi heh... Inside joke. I hope I've told you that one.

So... In case I don't see you? Good morning, good afternoon, good evening and good night. Take care of yourself for me, my dove. I've waited my whole life to stumble upon your existence, yet there you were, waiting for me just as much and as long, maybe. Wouldn't that be something? Let it be fate. Let it be true. I'll be here so go ahead. Surprise me <3