last summer i pined for a love that i thought would withstand the time
and the distance. it didn't. right now i'm pining for a love that
may not survive the next two days, leaving eight months of emotion in
i can't imagine feeling a greater sense of loss than i do right now,
sitting at the computer, all my crap still sitting in the car, waiting
for more energy to happen to its owner so it can be moved. i have no
energy and don't know if i ever will.
i don't like email love letters. i used to have this box, i'll just call
it THE box, that was filled with remebrances of loves past. but my love,
i use the present because he is, never wrote me anything physical that
wasn't on a birthday card or valentine. and i don't like to save my
electrons. they gather dust. i threw that box away, today, in plain sight of
my love, and i don't know if he understood why i did it. it was because
i don't need it anymore. i don't need the memory of love when i have the actual
thing in me right now and, possibly, forever.
i suppose, after last summer, i did make peace with my discomfort with
romance. but right now, in this moment where pain of the heart outdistances
everything else, i wonder why i decided to make that peace and why it
shocks me so that love hurts. it does, there's no way around it. so i'm
going to have to figure out how to endure this until it passes, if it
passes. any suggestions?
it occurs to me that maybe a little background is in order. i have been
seeing daniel since september 3rd, that'll be nine months in about two weeks,
but i don't know whether our time right now counts as being together. we
returned each other's tokens, some of the more important ones, and took our
toothbrushes out of each other's rooms. and didn't speak except to fight
or cry for about two weeks. but now we're getting it together. or trying,
anyway. and i'm finding that, while i couldn't stand his company two weeks
ago, when we talk about our problems, it is surprisingly effective in
bringing us closer together.
and, like you and i, i'm finding that small things threaten our relationship.
a call not made, a word spoken too thoughtlessly, flirting inappropriately.
and so it went, and so it goes, and you're the only one who knows...
(apologies to billy joel)
and so i sit, alone, and write to you.
you speak of the joyandagonyandfrustration of the possibilities between
us. i know those feelings. when you walked me to the chapel before
the concert, i looked at you in love, though you couldn't have known.
there is a person there who i have been close to, who i have loved and
still do, but there is also a self imposed rule i try to stick to --
never have the same relationship twice. i've only broken my rule twice,
and while at the time i've regretted it, i realize that those two exceptions
are the only two people i've ever loved out of all sight and mind. and i
don't think i love you that way.
you say i never seem lonely. how untrue! i want to laugh, it's so false,
but my throat seizes up.
i don't let people get close to me. you're not the only person who has
told me they were unable to get at the essence of me, underneath my
pearly facade. i put up walls that protect me from outside egos. i'm
afraid of something, but i haven't figured it out yet. it alienates some,
intrigues others, makes quite a few uncomfortable, but i can't change me,
nor would i want to. i like to think of my personality as a challenge. if
you care enough to search for what's underneath it all, then i respect you.
right now i'm lonely. it's more than just the novelty of coming home after
being surrounded by people, it's a lonliness of the soul. i want a soulmate.
someone who understands who and why and what and how i am, even if it is
illogical or unreasonable. will i find him or her?
that's another thing -- i think i'm bisexual. i'm not sure, yet. it's
something that will take some amount of time to figure out.
ok, i'm running down. a day of packing and depression will do that to you.
my number here is in my plan, if you've lost it.
I never felt that "small things threatened our relationship",
but obviously she did.|
This was a surprisingly open letter from her. Amazing how selective my reading was of it.