My Love for You is Like a Cockroach

Specifically a Madagascar hissing cockroach, the most adorable of cockroaches

‘Lo child,

Hey, how’s your hellscape? I’m feeling more and more connected to the world around me lately, which is just as good for your mental health as everyone tells you. And that doesn’t mean I’ve got a lot of people blowing up my phone — I’m quite bad at remembering the phone, and I don’t have a lot of friends.

I’m bad at friending, really. I either don’t care who you are in the slightest, in which case I will immerse myself in you while you’re around and then promptly forget about you when you leave, or I think you’re great, in which case I usually want to make out with you and then sit on the couch with you getting high and talking through movies for the indeterminate future. Neither of which relationship one would really characterize as “friendship.” One of my more porous boundaries, that — y’know, it’s made of Swiss cheese instead of a nice, strong barrier of drippy mozzarella. So you have a sense of the kind of durability scale I’m working on, boundaries-wise.

I just feel connected because I’m trying to connect. These past couple of weeks have been hard, and I’ve got another one to go, so I apologize for the last of pretty pictures. The job is hard, but it requires a…