 ARCHIVES
December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 February 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 April 2011 June 2011 |
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Le Coeur Est Un Muscle Involontaire Sometimes I think that I should have written this (or just something) months ago, but I tried and nothing came out. And as much as I think I have to say, and despite all that's already been said, I mostly feel like I have no words for this, for him, for how I feel about him. And that's rare. But I knew I had to do it, because for almost a year now I've said little to nothing and it's been festering in my brain and turning my heart into some useless organ like a tonsil. So I spoke and spoke and amazingly, I felt so much better once I wrote him this: Hiya, Here is my friend's address below - thanks again for taking that postcard and posting it for me. I owe you a stamp. (Editor's note: Upon re-reading this myself, you should probably only read the rest of this email when you're ready to hear me again, and not when you're in a social situation looking to skim this quickly to see what's up. It might annoy and frustrate you, and I'd rather you just listen. Except for the PS, that's cool.) And thanks for everything else: being patient when I was stressed out, waiting for me at the top of hills, and... well, you know. Everything. Like I said, and like we agreed, I had a nice time. It was unfortunate that it ended the way it did, the last night being how it was - I'm still not sure how I feel about the both of us admitting that meeting up was a "Mistake" - I just had to say some things out loud and be honest with you before I left (I don't mean to frustrate you, sorry for keeping you up). I know you're not one to dwell on emotional things (and it seems that I am), but I needed some resolution to the last memory I had of you - just a quick kiss on the lips on the street corner with the promise of something ...more later. We didn't want a big Goodbye because it wasn't going to be one. It's just taking me a while to get used to the idea that we were once crazy about each other despite the whereabouts of a particularly large pond, but not so much anymore. Though, I'm probably still crazy in a whole other way... Like I said, I just wanted to tell you that I miss you, and though it was brief, I miss being with you. I know that I will one day forget the sweet things you said to me, and the way it felt to have you shake my hand as you held it walking down the street, or rest your foot on top of mine as we chatted, and how I felt when I looked in your eyes as we shared the tiny details of our lives - but for now, these memories haunt me gently. I know I can be maddeningly hyperbolic, but if such a thing exists, to me, this is all Honest Hyperbole. It seems we're both searching for the same things (no, I'm not just looking for someone that I simply work and travel well with, and no, I don't want to take on someone else's interests as my own, and yes, I too believe in having things that are Mine and Mine Alone) - the want for that Great, Deep Love sometimes feels like it's about to swallow me whole. I find it curious that I might have actually met someone who, like me, has built it up so much in their head that we might just be in love with the idea of Love itself. I'm not sure how you're feeling reading all this (hopefully you are resisting the urge to vomit a bit in your mouth), but: I feel I could have loved you greatly, if only you had let me - or if only Time and Chance allowed us to actually try. The fact that you don't want to though, nullifies that, of course. (That Click you speak of, I could have swore it was there...) I am sure that when we both sort ourselves and our ideas out in our minds, the people we do choose to love in this lifetime will be very, very lucky. When I was in the kitchen preparing our dinner that last night at the hostel, the nice Portuguese woman asked me if you were my boyfriend. With a smile and a heavy heart, I shook my head and told her "No. Amigo. Friend." She nodded, paused, and asked if you were a "special friend." With a tear in one eye and the creases of a knowing smile in the other, I nodded and said, "Yes, very special." Of course, I wish you lots of happiness and all of the greatest things that the world has to offer, not just because you're entitled to it, but because you do actually deserve it. Hopefully you had some nice things to say to your friend when he asked how it went. -me. [PS: On a much, much lighter note - curious coincidences strike us again. You say your computer is kaput, and unluckily, so is mine (so you were smart in keeping some important photos on your memory card...) I'm taking it in stat so I can save what I can. Mercury has actually been in retrograde since the 20th or so (this usually causes technological problems) so perhaps this will show you that meta-physics aren't that far off after all....eh?] |
|
