2003-03-04 12:35 a.m.
Letter To A John

Letter I wrote to F yesterday:

Allow me to open with some of my favorite words....

"Well, go on ahead, take this the wrong way..."

I would like to begin by making it absolutely clear that I am in no way angry with you. Ok, let me make this even easier; I am exhausted right now, I worked this morning after an hour of sleep because I bought a truly great book yesterday and couldn't put it down until it was done, so at this moment I would like to resort to making a list myself, rather than attempt to write with something less than eloquence.

In reply to specific things you wrote:

1. There was no need for you to explain yourself, other than your own reasons.

2. I haven't felt any resentment toward you for some time now.

3. I'm glad I lied to you about Jeremy, because it prevented me from lying to Steve about you.

4. I'm sorry I didn't have the compassion for you that you afforded me. The tinges of compassion that I did feel for you were buried by my anger at the time.

5. I forgave you a long time ago for cheating on me. In the larger scheme of things, it really, truly, honestly didn't matter that much. In light of the rest of our relationship, our ten year (well, it's almost twelve years now) friendship, something like that just doesn't seem that big.

6. I would rather have broken my vow to stay with you no matter what than betray myself for the rest of my life. My heart just wasn't in it anymore (I know, cliche, cliche, cliche, but I can't help it at this stage of exhaustion) and neither was my head. I guess that what was hanging on by a thread was my soul. Perhaps right where it touched yours.

"I remember the time that you told me,

you said

Love is touching souls

Well, surely you have touched mine

'cause part of you pours

out of me

in these lines

from time to time"

7. I didn't, by any means, draft you into our relationship. Draft implies force. And as for you never really having a say in it, consider these words, because they were your own, "I want you to be my woman. I can't do this anymore. You need to make up your mind." So I did something that you wanted me to do, AND that I wanted to do. I made up my mind. As for the leaving part, you told me that you wanted to be caught cheating on me, knowing full well what that would mean (and I'm sorry it took so long for me to mean it), so, logically, that proves right there that you also wanted out. Just because you communicated that in a different way than I did doesn't mean it wasn't there. You had your say; you chose actions whereas I chose words.

8. Yes, in some ways, I have grown up. And I struggle with it sometimes, as I'm sure millions of people our age do every day, including you. Parts of it are inevitable, I suppose, and I'm not going to waste my time fighting those particular parts, banging my head against the wall or peashooting the moon. I'm too busy writing, and painting, and playing guitar, and singing at the top of my lungs, and dancing my fool head off, and reading, and making love, and being curious about things, and having compassion for people and animals and trees and flowers, and observing everything, and counting bird's nests in the trees, and getting excited about seeing two hawks on the way to Middletown, and feeling Becky's baby move when I touch her belly, and having big, long, all night conversations with Steve, and making snow devils, and laughing with my family, and everything everything everything everything! View it less as submission and more as transcendence and you'll see what I mean. I know, the �goddess-like� laugh you speak of once meant that all things were possible, but believe that that laugh has not been muted, it has only become a part of a thousand other laughs that mean a million other things as well as what it meant to me and you. And I like it that way. It means that there's a laugh between us, one that only you and I knew the meaning of, and that will never happen again. But it belongs, I agree, where it is...in the past. The laughs I now share with others mean many things, all of them different than that one. And I'm grateful for such proof of life.

9. The world breaks my heart every day. That, I think, is the price of compassion.

10. I am certainly not settled here. I am waiting for Steve to figure out what he would like to do about school. It's a decision we made together, and I stay because I wish to be with him. I have far more patience now than you would expect of me, partially because I want to have more and partially because Steve is younger than I am and I must allow for that. Must and want to.

11. As for what I was going to be, well, let me ask you something. Do you still want to be the same things you did when you and I were together? I'm sure you do, but I'm also sure that there are a few more things added to that list, and some have been amended or compromised. Things change, and so do we. Obviously, you have made great changes since our relationship ended, and so have I. But I don't feel the need to parade them around as proof in front of everybody (I just want to clarify here that I'm NOT saying you do; I want to take special care to not make you feel as though I'm insulting you, or your intelligence, or being pretentious, etc. Which is probably exactly how I sound anyway, because I'm trying too hard, which is a new thing that I haven't quite gotten used to yet, but...) because the only person I have to answer to is the person that is the toughest on me, and we should all know who that is by now, right? (Well, you might not know...it's me.) I don't want to live up to the expectations I had of myself when we were together, or the ones that you had of me then. I want to live up to the ones I have now. Now.

12. The fact that you have gotten over me completely is not, as you said, "as cold as reality's darkest corners", nor does it come as any revelation to me. Granted, I was never absolutely sure of it before, because neither your actions nor your words made it clear, but for a long time I had hoped that it would happen and we could move forward as friends. Part of my persistence about wanting to remain friends with you (I'm being honest here, ok?) is because of my failed attempt at remaining friends with Jeremy. But I want you to know that the biggest part of it is because you, unlike Jeremy, or Tracy, or Darrin, are worth it. Worth it enough for me to keep trying. So here I am, trying.

You write this:

"I still love you, but it has changed to a different sort of love. You are now a friend, a close one who knows more of my little secrets than anyone on the planet. I would like to honor that, but if it causes you turmoil then perhaps we should just become sweet memories of one another. Either way I have chosen to let go of the terrible things that I was angry about and and am left with many fond thoughts of your laughs, foot rubs, hand jobs of appeasement to get me to shut up, and little red dots on your irish body."

"Yes I do miss you from time to time, but it is in a reality sharing way in which I experience something and wish you could witness it so that you know that I am not the ignorant young boy I was a few years ago and that I have the capacity to learn from my errors. Anything that I tell you of my accomplishments now is not to compete with you but to share, please don't project that petty view point onto me."

"All in all you and I have had many "final words" but for the sake of both our lives and those we care about in the present, your reply will be our last word's between lovers. No, I don't have a problem with you having the last words. I am telling you everything I have to say right now, take it or leave it, I won't defend it further."

"If you really do believe that we are two halves of the same star then this life doesn't matter anyway and I'll see you on the golden shores of the end of time. I promise you that. You were my first love, the first perfume of this world to embed itself in my senses. I will recognize you forever even if it is in further dimensions, stranger lifetimes, and oceans of time."

"You know the unpronouncable name of my soul, you understand the articulations of the heart and I only hope that you will mend yours and move on in the world as the wonderful individual that you are. Your path is yours to choose, and I'm sure I will see you again, if only on your death bed, or mine."

"You no longer have my heart, perhaps in the future it you may be offered it again, but not now. What you will have forever is a piece of my soul, which is a less tangible, but more primal and pure currency in the land of influence."

Exactly. You see, we are not so different after all, you and I. These are not last words, as you said, "between lovers". These are not last words even between friends. Because they aren't last words at all.

Sa

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