I had a dream about you last night. It was vivid. It was real.
You and I were outside in our yard, planting our garden. You were planting lettuce seeds, and I was laughing at you while holding a glass of tea (unsweetened, of course) out to you. It started to rain. We danced. You held me. We danced in the rain, while eating gummy bears and drinking tea.
I awoke with a sense, a feeling as if you were with me. But of course you weren't.
God, but it felt so fucking real. It was so real. I FELT your arms around me. I FELT your tight embrace. I HEARD your laughter and I FELT the rain on our faces.
Why do you keep haunting me, when all I am trying to do is move beyond you?
k
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Dear K
Dear K,
Having slept on my last email, I feel like I didn't cover everything I should have; it was written meaningfully, but also in haste. I meant everything I said, but I wrote it indifferently when I should have written from my heart. We have both known that in each other, we perceive ourselves. I feel that in many ways, we have lived parallel but separate lives – all the way down to our quirky mannerisms and completely ridiculous sense of humour. I still laugh to myself about the morning we woke up and held a full 10-minute conversation with terrible British accents, all without prompt or reason. It goes deeper than all of this, I know, to the way we suppress and internalize, to the way we emotionally compensate, and outwardly show anger and insecurity. We are different, for sure, but our striking similarities have also caused me minor disturbation. For example, I'm sure you had a faint inner chuckle at the word disturbation, possibly followed by a connection to the word masturbation, which consequently yielded another, slightly more jovial, inner chuckle. Anyway, in trying to figure out what is going through your mind, I put myself in your place: anger, resentment, sadness, disappointment, and above all else an intense desire for self-preservation and an inward commitment to the construction of a very high and sturdy emotional wall. If I were you, I would stop talking to me and know that the silence would hurt. Anyway, I can only guess. But here's what I know: I've made mistakes, as we all have, but in the end, as I think about all of the things we have said to, and felt about, each other, I can only tell you that I will miss you, dearly. I fucking miss you right now. I thought about you every day in Paris. Every single day. After I returned, I immediately went to New York alone, to clear my head. Every day in Manhattan, I took what memories I had of you with me. You were with me when I strolled through the Louis Vuitton flagships on the Champs-Élysées and on 5th Avenue. And I have always remembered that line we have uttered (moo?) several times: I don't know how you figure into my life, but I know that you have to be part of it, somehow. Now, obviously you have had a change of heart, and you're doing what you think is best. I respect that, even if I don't agree. I just know that we have both lived with the regret of past mistakes and destroyed friendships – people with whom we shared many of our best and worst times, in relationships that have ultimately slipped through our fingers, or have been crushed between them, for one reason or another. We both have very few inner-circle friends because of this. The question I have always asked is, are things better because of it? Is my life any richer? I honestly don't know – but my heart has always told me, probably not. Our lives are too short, you know? Anyway, that's all. I could go on for hours, but it would just be ramble. I have thought about you in some way, shape or form, every day since I left for Paris (you were snarky on the phone just before I took off, remember?). And deep down, I know – I KNOW – that you have also thought about me, that you are still thinking about me. Please do not mistake this for ego. I know this because I can feel it. Does that sound dumb? Maybe I'm way off-base. But wherever I seem to be, I can feel our thoughts colliding in the psychic airspace and geography that separates us. See? Disturbation. It all comes together in the circle of life. And now, I will say goodbye, as this is my best guess at what you are trying to achieve.
Love always,
J
Having slept on my last email, I feel like I didn't cover everything I should have; it was written meaningfully, but also in haste. I meant everything I said, but I wrote it indifferently when I should have written from my heart. We have both known that in each other, we perceive ourselves. I feel that in many ways, we have lived parallel but separate lives – all the way down to our quirky mannerisms and completely ridiculous sense of humour. I still laugh to myself about the morning we woke up and held a full 10-minute conversation with terrible British accents, all without prompt or reason. It goes deeper than all of this, I know, to the way we suppress and internalize, to the way we emotionally compensate, and outwardly show anger and insecurity. We are different, for sure, but our striking similarities have also caused me minor disturbation. For example, I'm sure you had a faint inner chuckle at the word disturbation, possibly followed by a connection to the word masturbation, which consequently yielded another, slightly more jovial, inner chuckle. Anyway, in trying to figure out what is going through your mind, I put myself in your place: anger, resentment, sadness, disappointment, and above all else an intense desire for self-preservation and an inward commitment to the construction of a very high and sturdy emotional wall. If I were you, I would stop talking to me and know that the silence would hurt. Anyway, I can only guess. But here's what I know: I've made mistakes, as we all have, but in the end, as I think about all of the things we have said to, and felt about, each other, I can only tell you that I will miss you, dearly. I fucking miss you right now. I thought about you every day in Paris. Every single day. After I returned, I immediately went to New York alone, to clear my head. Every day in Manhattan, I took what memories I had of you with me. You were with me when I strolled through the Louis Vuitton flagships on the Champs-Élysées and on 5th Avenue. And I have always remembered that line we have uttered (moo?) several times: I don't know how you figure into my life, but I know that you have to be part of it, somehow. Now, obviously you have had a change of heart, and you're doing what you think is best. I respect that, even if I don't agree. I just know that we have both lived with the regret of past mistakes and destroyed friendships – people with whom we shared many of our best and worst times, in relationships that have ultimately slipped through our fingers, or have been crushed between them, for one reason or another. We both have very few inner-circle friends because of this. The question I have always asked is, are things better because of it? Is my life any richer? I honestly don't know – but my heart has always told me, probably not. Our lives are too short, you know? Anyway, that's all. I could go on for hours, but it would just be ramble. I have thought about you in some way, shape or form, every day since I left for Paris (you were snarky on the phone just before I took off, remember?). And deep down, I know – I KNOW – that you have also thought about me, that you are still thinking about me. Please do not mistake this for ego. I know this because I can feel it. Does that sound dumb? Maybe I'm way off-base. But wherever I seem to be, I can feel our thoughts colliding in the psychic airspace and geography that separates us. See? Disturbation. It all comes together in the circle of life. And now, I will say goodbye, as this is my best guess at what you are trying to achieve.
Love always,
J
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Happy birthday, k
Happy birthday!
This is a very special day for more than one reason. First, it is your birthday, the day that you started being you. In my book, that's pretty important as you are pretty important to me. Second, it was one month ago today that we shared our first kiss. This feels like my birthday too, because on that day you gave me a new life. It is quite amazing! You are able to bring me more happiness in each second than anyone else could in a lifetime. This last month has brought good and bad, but the good outweighs the bad by so much that I wouldn't trade it for anything; not for all the trucks in K.C, or all the boots in Texas, all the soccer balls in Pakistan, or all the waves in Oahu. Nothing, except maybe all the money in the world. Then I would buy the island I keep talking about, and set up my own little country. I would then purchase a certain diamond and saphire necklace. The last thing I would do would be to buy eternity and spend it all with you. As long as you will occasionally hold me in your arms, because there is nowhere that I would rather be than in your arms. There are many other things that I want to share with you, but there is not enough ink in this pen to write all the things I feel about and towards you.
Happy birthday, k. I love you.
This is a very special day for more than one reason. First, it is your birthday, the day that you started being you. In my book, that's pretty important as you are pretty important to me. Second, it was one month ago today that we shared our first kiss. This feels like my birthday too, because on that day you gave me a new life. It is quite amazing! You are able to bring me more happiness in each second than anyone else could in a lifetime. This last month has brought good and bad, but the good outweighs the bad by so much that I wouldn't trade it for anything; not for all the trucks in K.C, or all the boots in Texas, all the soccer balls in Pakistan, or all the waves in Oahu. Nothing, except maybe all the money in the world. Then I would buy the island I keep talking about, and set up my own little country. I would then purchase a certain diamond and saphire necklace. The last thing I would do would be to buy eternity and spend it all with you. As long as you will occasionally hold me in your arms, because there is nowhere that I would rather be than in your arms. There are many other things that I want to share with you, but there is not enough ink in this pen to write all the things I feel about and towards you.
Happy birthday, k. I love you.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Dearest J
Dearest,
getting off the plane in Raleigh was so nerve racking. I didn't really know what to think or what I was doing. But there you were. Smiling. And when I was in your arms, I felt as though I were shaking like a leaf and I thought that you could feel every ounce of nervousness I was holding inside of me. I wanted to reach out and hold your hand as we walked to get my bags, and so I did. You didn't resist. And when you kissed me in the middle of the great hall, I didn't know what to think. And when you kissed me in your car, I still didn't know what to think. And when you stopped me cold on the street, held my face in your hands while studying every last inch of it before slowly dropping your lips to mine to kiss me, I stopped thinking. Do you know that every time you touch me, every time you kiss me, every time you hold my hand, I give a piece of myself to you? I do. The weekend was a great weekend in my opinion. I don't know what you thought of it exactly, but I enjoyed it.
I laugh out loud right now at the thought of my favourite memories from this past weekend. Do you want to know what they were? I loved every moment that our feet touched. Silly isn't it? I love the small gestures, the small movements that you do when you touch me. When you gently lift my chin to kiss you, or sweep a stray hair away from my cheek, or caress the back of my hand with your thumb when you're holding my hand. When you always make sure to open the car door for me, and kiss me before you close it again. Those are the things that make my heart skip a beat. It isn't the big sweeping hugs or throwing me up in the air that are important to me. It's when you let me put my cold feet against your legs, or hold my hand while we're in bed, or let me lay my cold body next to yours so I can warm up. Those are the things that make me feel loved.
I love you. I have always loved you. I have never stopped loving you. Ever since you have come into my life, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. The first time I laid eyes on you that cold January evening after all of those years, I knew that my life would never be the same. That week was one of the most incredible weeks of my life. Being with you again released all of those feelings that I had been withholding from myself, not allowing myself to feel. I tried desperately to deny that I needed to feel those things, that I didn't need them to feel whole. When you told me that if you had stayed longer, you would have fallen in love with me again, when you you told me that you have never forgotten about me, when you told me that nobody has measured up to me since our relationship, I cried. I couldn't believe it. Really? Could it have been possible?
Our last evening together in Raleigh, I let you have a part of me that I vowed to myself I would never give anyone. I gave it to you because I knew it was what you wanted. I cried that morning in bed. I cried because I knew I would give you anything you asked of me. That scares me. I want to be independent and self sufficient. I don't want to depend on others. But I lean on you for things that I shouldn't. I need to pull away before this shatters me like it once did. I need to pull away and put it all behind me. It is getting harder and harder to detach myself from you.
Dearest, we skirt the issue. We never talk about what is going on between us. We share moments where I would stake my life on the way you love me, but you turn as cold as you once were as passionate. Is it because you are as afraid as I am that one day you will be called and you may never come back? I am so desperately afraid of that, but I am not afraid to love you, if you would let me.
So tell me. What do you want? Am I to think of a future, or am I to think that each moment is just a star in the sky, alone, shining, but not connected to anything else? A brilliant point in time. Raleigh was lovely as I knew it would be. It had been too long, and we had been apart for longer than I wanted.
I am torn between running without turning back and being tortured by the anticipation of feeling you in my arms again.
k
getting off the plane in Raleigh was so nerve racking. I didn't really know what to think or what I was doing. But there you were. Smiling. And when I was in your arms, I felt as though I were shaking like a leaf and I thought that you could feel every ounce of nervousness I was holding inside of me. I wanted to reach out and hold your hand as we walked to get my bags, and so I did. You didn't resist. And when you kissed me in the middle of the great hall, I didn't know what to think. And when you kissed me in your car, I still didn't know what to think. And when you stopped me cold on the street, held my face in your hands while studying every last inch of it before slowly dropping your lips to mine to kiss me, I stopped thinking. Do you know that every time you touch me, every time you kiss me, every time you hold my hand, I give a piece of myself to you? I do. The weekend was a great weekend in my opinion. I don't know what you thought of it exactly, but I enjoyed it.
I laugh out loud right now at the thought of my favourite memories from this past weekend. Do you want to know what they were? I loved every moment that our feet touched. Silly isn't it? I love the small gestures, the small movements that you do when you touch me. When you gently lift my chin to kiss you, or sweep a stray hair away from my cheek, or caress the back of my hand with your thumb when you're holding my hand. When you always make sure to open the car door for me, and kiss me before you close it again. Those are the things that make my heart skip a beat. It isn't the big sweeping hugs or throwing me up in the air that are important to me. It's when you let me put my cold feet against your legs, or hold my hand while we're in bed, or let me lay my cold body next to yours so I can warm up. Those are the things that make me feel loved.
I love you. I have always loved you. I have never stopped loving you. Ever since you have come into my life, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. The first time I laid eyes on you that cold January evening after all of those years, I knew that my life would never be the same. That week was one of the most incredible weeks of my life. Being with you again released all of those feelings that I had been withholding from myself, not allowing myself to feel. I tried desperately to deny that I needed to feel those things, that I didn't need them to feel whole. When you told me that if you had stayed longer, you would have fallen in love with me again, when you you told me that you have never forgotten about me, when you told me that nobody has measured up to me since our relationship, I cried. I couldn't believe it. Really? Could it have been possible?
Our last evening together in Raleigh, I let you have a part of me that I vowed to myself I would never give anyone. I gave it to you because I knew it was what you wanted. I cried that morning in bed. I cried because I knew I would give you anything you asked of me. That scares me. I want to be independent and self sufficient. I don't want to depend on others. But I lean on you for things that I shouldn't. I need to pull away before this shatters me like it once did. I need to pull away and put it all behind me. It is getting harder and harder to detach myself from you.
Dearest, we skirt the issue. We never talk about what is going on between us. We share moments where I would stake my life on the way you love me, but you turn as cold as you once were as passionate. Is it because you are as afraid as I am that one day you will be called and you may never come back? I am so desperately afraid of that, but I am not afraid to love you, if you would let me.
So tell me. What do you want? Am I to think of a future, or am I to think that each moment is just a star in the sky, alone, shining, but not connected to anything else? A brilliant point in time. Raleigh was lovely as I knew it would be. It had been too long, and we had been apart for longer than I wanted.
I am torn between running without turning back and being tortured by the anticipation of feeling you in my arms again.
k
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Dearest k
Dear k,
I'm sorry. These last few days have been hard on you, I know. I'm sorry. You've got enough to deal with, without me adding to it. It's just that sometimes I get to thinking about me and the thoughts aren't always good. I sometimes get to thinking that I'm not good enough. I'm real conservative and reserved and most people don't really like that. Most people seem to think that if you're not talking constantly, there's something wrong. I, however, spend lots of time not saying anything. I've never been real popular, not that I really want to be, but what I'm saying is that I've never had a lot of friends. You on the other hand, are the complete opposite. You are lively, people are drawn to you. You have an aura and a magnetism that makes people want to be near you. I can't compare with that. Not that I feel I have to, but do you see what I'm saying? I've never been very good at the interpersonal relationship thing. I just wonder if I'm good enough to keep you while I'm away. I mean, do I have enough to keep you interested for so long? I'm not worried about you running around on me, I'm worried about you losing interest. I don't think I'm good enough to keep you interested when I'm not there, and that scares me to death. I don't know if I can keep the flames from dying. It's nothing about you. It's about me and the fact that I've never had a relationship last for more than a year or so. Knowing that, how can I expect to keep you? I guess a big part of the problem is that I've never ever felt good enough and I never heard it growing up. I don't rely on others, it's just me. I take care of myself. Between this and moving around so much, I never get close to many people. It's just that much easier to let go that way. But now I'm faced with a situation where I absolutely had to get close to someone and don't want to let go, ever. So I don't know what to do. This is kinda new ground for me, so I have to apologize. I'm not real sure how to deal with this, so I have kept it to myself, and well, it just kinda exploded the other day. I'm also sorry about tonight. I meant nothing by it.
God you are so beautiful.
How do I do this?
J
I'm sorry. These last few days have been hard on you, I know. I'm sorry. You've got enough to deal with, without me adding to it. It's just that sometimes I get to thinking about me and the thoughts aren't always good. I sometimes get to thinking that I'm not good enough. I'm real conservative and reserved and most people don't really like that. Most people seem to think that if you're not talking constantly, there's something wrong. I, however, spend lots of time not saying anything. I've never been real popular, not that I really want to be, but what I'm saying is that I've never had a lot of friends. You on the other hand, are the complete opposite. You are lively, people are drawn to you. You have an aura and a magnetism that makes people want to be near you. I can't compare with that. Not that I feel I have to, but do you see what I'm saying? I've never been very good at the interpersonal relationship thing. I just wonder if I'm good enough to keep you while I'm away. I mean, do I have enough to keep you interested for so long? I'm not worried about you running around on me, I'm worried about you losing interest. I don't think I'm good enough to keep you interested when I'm not there, and that scares me to death. I don't know if I can keep the flames from dying. It's nothing about you. It's about me and the fact that I've never had a relationship last for more than a year or so. Knowing that, how can I expect to keep you? I guess a big part of the problem is that I've never ever felt good enough and I never heard it growing up. I don't rely on others, it's just me. I take care of myself. Between this and moving around so much, I never get close to many people. It's just that much easier to let go that way. But now I'm faced with a situation where I absolutely had to get close to someone and don't want to let go, ever. So I don't know what to do. This is kinda new ground for me, so I have to apologize. I'm not real sure how to deal with this, so I have kept it to myself, and well, it just kinda exploded the other day. I'm also sorry about tonight. I meant nothing by it.
God you are so beautiful.
How do I do this?
J
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Dearest Heart
Life has not been getting easier since you've been gone. I wish I had different words for you to hear.
I still sleep with your pillow. I still sleep on your side of the bed. I still put your favourite sheets on the bed just so I can feel the closeness of you. I still cry myself to sleep at night, not knowing how to diminish the hollowness in my heart.
I haven't been able to clean out your closet or give away your clothes. It has been years and the familiar smell of you no longer lives there. I used to lock myself up in there for hours just sitting amongst your things, tying the shoelaces on each pair of shoes you left behind. I used to put them on my feet and walk around the closet so that it appeared as though you'd been there, searching through your impecably pressed shirts for the perfect one, and asking me about a matching tie. I used to put on your jackets so that I could feel the weight of you around me, holding me again. Foolish. I know.
Dearheart, don't be angry with me for doing these things. I am trying. But tonight will not be one of those nights I succeed.
I am wishing that I will see you soon, despite the sadness I know it will create for those I leave behind here. But I am selfish and don't want to be reminded of that. Not tonight.
Not tonight.
k
I still sleep with your pillow. I still sleep on your side of the bed. I still put your favourite sheets on the bed just so I can feel the closeness of you. I still cry myself to sleep at night, not knowing how to diminish the hollowness in my heart.
I haven't been able to clean out your closet or give away your clothes. It has been years and the familiar smell of you no longer lives there. I used to lock myself up in there for hours just sitting amongst your things, tying the shoelaces on each pair of shoes you left behind. I used to put them on my feet and walk around the closet so that it appeared as though you'd been there, searching through your impecably pressed shirts for the perfect one, and asking me about a matching tie. I used to put on your jackets so that I could feel the weight of you around me, holding me again. Foolish. I know.
Dearheart, don't be angry with me for doing these things. I am trying. But tonight will not be one of those nights I succeed.
I am wishing that I will see you soon, despite the sadness I know it will create for those I leave behind here. But I am selfish and don't want to be reminded of that. Not tonight.
Not tonight.
k
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Happy Valentines Day, k!
Happy Valentines Day!
There are so many things that I want to say to you.
Strange as it may seem, it is quite true that I (the hopeless, cheesy, old fashioned romantic that I am), have fallen in love with you in a major way. I realize this happened very fast, but it happened. You always ask me what it is that I love about you.
I love the way that you can make me smile anytime you want (because I'm always smiling on the inside when you are near), and the way you make my day happy and bright just by being you. I love the smell of your fruit cocktail hair, and the way your eyes sparkle when you smile, and I even love your laugh (that you hate). I love everything about you, so don't go changing to try and please me. Because that is impossible; I couldn't be more pleased.
This may sound like complete corn to you, but so what, it's the way I feel. I can't really imagine what it would be like without you, though I was thinking about that last night. I was really scared. The reason why I didn't say anything for such a long time was because I couldn't. I couldn't do anything but sit there and shake, because I can't think of anything worse than being without you. Yeah, I know I've got it bad, but I don't mind because I can't remember the last time I was as happy as I am when I'm with you. I mean this, straight from the heart.
I love you, dearest k.
There are so many things that I want to say to you.
Strange as it may seem, it is quite true that I (the hopeless, cheesy, old fashioned romantic that I am), have fallen in love with you in a major way. I realize this happened very fast, but it happened. You always ask me what it is that I love about you.
I love the way that you can make me smile anytime you want (because I'm always smiling on the inside when you are near), and the way you make my day happy and bright just by being you. I love the smell of your fruit cocktail hair, and the way your eyes sparkle when you smile, and I even love your laugh (that you hate). I love everything about you, so don't go changing to try and please me. Because that is impossible; I couldn't be more pleased.
This may sound like complete corn to you, but so what, it's the way I feel. I can't really imagine what it would be like without you, though I was thinking about that last night. I was really scared. The reason why I didn't say anything for such a long time was because I couldn't. I couldn't do anything but sit there and shake, because I can't think of anything worse than being without you. Yeah, I know I've got it bad, but I don't mind because I can't remember the last time I was as happy as I am when I'm with you. I mean this, straight from the heart.
I love you, dearest k.
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