I didn't want to end it. I was so in love. Ahhhhh! its very frustrating, i don't understand. how can you not feel the same way, i gave you (at least i thought) i gave you all that i could, i thought i was doing the best i could. i felt we could work out anything. i knew it was begining to get really rough, but i thought we'd get over it, i was planning a trip to Houston that weekend. i want to go to houston, but that place reminds me of you too much, i don't think i'm going to go for a long time, i know my parents have been asking me to go, but i can't. i just can't make myself. why did it have to end. i liked you so much. you are like no one else. i liked you despite your weeknesses, it was something i thought we could work through. i loved you no matter what. in the morning without make up... hair all over the place... shorts, t-shirt, chanclas, i loved you regardles. i liked your tastes. i loved last time you were here, it was perfect, went out to dinner in formal wear. it was awesome. i liked taking care of you. brian bought a bunch of lotery tix, he's hoping to get big jackpot, i wanted to ask you to move in with me, he will give me 30% is what he says. i kinda regret doing the frat thing. it might have contributed to you not wanting me anymore, but whats more is that today when i turned in my paperwork i felt used. they are charging me $200 in an app fee which is non-refundable. i actually saw myself growing old with you. i saw you every step of the way to my grave. i really did want to spend the rest of my life with you. i had begun planning on buying you an engagement ring, even if we didn't get married, i wanted to centralize our relationship a bit more. wanted to make it more centered, more closed. i was just waiting on a good break from work. i miss you like no other. first time we broke up, i just felt like ok, just got to wait it out, damn, but i hated that feeling. second time, i honestly didn't care after a couple of weeks, i had begun to really get over you. i mean, i still wanted you, but i had made my mind that you weren't going to come back... but then you suggested getting back with me, i thought you really wanted me, that put me at such a high place, i felt so happy, i felt so good. i liked it. loved it. that night at my cousin's party i felt like the happening couple. we were the cats meow, i thought. that was what i wanted our relationship to be like from then on. i wanted to just be happy with you. i wanted you to move in with me so we could start making our future together, we weren't going to stay in san marcos because i know it'd be too hard for you to get good clientelle here, i was willing to find a place in austin, or in between so you could get a job in Austin. i wanted to sacrifice myself for you. i would've given my life for you... it hurts it really does. and in some off way, it kinda pisses me off, hopefully this anger will help me get over you, faster, so i don't put up with all these feelings that i've got inside for you. i feel like such a prick for calling you today and telling you exactly how i felt. now i just feel voulnerable, like a kid who just told his life story, but gets laughed at. "I haven't changed my mind" FUCK i'm such a dumb ass. something inside me wants to sever all connections with you ASAP. but another doesn't I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE YOU. i don't. i want you. i need you. i love you. Here is the actual essay, though it is still in a very rough stage. If you want to read the essay, you might find it online, "At Twenty-Six I know".

When I initially read �At Twenty-six I know� very dark images of fighting and yelling came to mind; the colors red, burgundy, and black filled my eyes. To me this poem was very violent, �If I drag a knife across your chest, you bleed. Square your fist, slam my skull like a birdcage� it was very literal to my eyes. Much violence seeped out of the paper, fists flaying, blood splattering, arms flailing, yelling, and noise. I felt the poem to be too abrasive; the violence would scratch against my eyes. I couldn�t understand how someone could write this, especially about love. I later realized, as much as I would like to admit, there are relationships like this though, very violent, and harsh. Relationships where there is not only verbal abuse, which is not good in the first place, but there is also physical abuse.
The more I read it though all these negative feelings and images of an arguing couples fighting began giving way to brighter images, images of metaphoric violence, for a lack of better words. I began drawing similarities between Falcon�s writing and my personal believes of love. Of love being a well tuned and maintained machine. This poem proves how my thoughts of love as a well oiled machine. One has to trust the loved one to reciprocate those feelings of love to allow this lean mean loving-machine to work properly; in the case of this poem the narrator of the poem stands at a crossroads, and being asked to �let [herself] go� and plummet �Twenty-Six� floors and fall in love with that person. In other words, I see this as the christening of a new love machine.
With loving people, and of course being loved by those same people comes the potential of inflicting great damage to one another. Falcon�s character has the ability to �drag a [metaphoric] knife across [another person�s] chest� which to me, this means, the ability of breaking this person�s heart, emotionally damaging him or her. On the other hand the character could also be subject to abuse, but with a slight difference; mental abuse as the other person �squares [the] fist [to] slam [the character�s] skull like a birdcage.
Falcon also mentions how love can be messy and complicated like �physics�. In the same sense that I feel love is like a machine, too much good or accidental negligence can end bad. When talking about romantic love relationships giving too much attention can be like a child tightly gripping flowers in its hand, asphyxiating. Conversely not acknowledging the loved one can uproot or hurt that person�s feelings.

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