Love letter # 98
Okay, I confess – there are days when I wish I’d never opened the door to you. These are the days when I miss you so much I ache all over – the days when all the distractions do nothing to take my thoughts away. Days like today.
But mostly, I thank the stars that I once held you – that there were nights when we hid beneath the sheets. How lucky I was to kiss your beautiful mouth – to know your skin. These little treasures made me richer.
I am the like the lottery winner, the peasant who caught the eye of the queen. Your graces could have fallen upon much greater men but they came instead to me – and I have never been the same.
Even when I am riven, faint with blood loss, weak with hunger – even as I pray for oblivion … I remember how blessed I am to have known you so. And bittersweet days like these, when I so stupidly long for you? Why, these too are diamond hours.
Love letter # 25
I wear your name above my heart. It’s right here, under my shirt, unhealed ridges. That one syllable. I run my fingers across its texture; it’s almost like touching you.
People say forget her – but how can I? I never knew anything so wonderful as the warmth of your proximity. I never heard a song more moving than your whispers. There was never anything better than the slow, slow way we made love.
Your name is a synonym now – I say it quietly to myself when I want to feel the fire. And when that shiver passes through me I am more alive.
I love you as I said I would – because it makes me better – because it is my honour to do so. I understand that you will never say the same of me but I do not love you for what I can get.
I love you just because.
Love letter … 0
Nothing lasts. Not these walls. Not these things that fill my house. Not these victories that I think I’ve won. Even the wonder of spring. Even the stars. Maybe even time itself.
Only my love for you.
Everything breaks; most notably my heart – which seems at any moment ready to burst into flames. Everything stops … yes, even my breathing.
Only my love for you.
How beautiful things are. How wondrous this passing. What joy these ruins. There is no sorrow here, no shred of regret.
Only my love for you.
Love letter # 61
When I saw you last night … God, I was breathless. I tried to hide it but I was trembling. Not in a bad way but with a kind of gentle, almost tidal wonder. And when you let me hold you, it felt like light in my veins.
When I walked back home through the darkened streets afterwards it shocked me to realise that I would stand in the line of fire for you – that it was you I would save from the storm. And I felt humble and alive.
When you called me this morning I nearly burst; everything hidden unveiled, all the dark parts illuminated. It was a kind of cleansing. And I flowed into the sound of your voice and all the awful hours dissolved.
When I said I loved you all those months ago this is what I meant – this is the promise I made.
As long as this blood is scarlet I would sooner bleed.
Love letter # 52
So this is where I find myself – hoping you won’t be there. It’s not that I don’t want to see you it’s just that I can’t bear it. I can’t sit politely, pretending you’re just anybody. My heart will not make do with scraps.
And you’re so awkward these days, trying so hard not to let it show – wearing your veil of uncaring because someone said it was better that way. Hiding your beauty away, lest I be tempted.
I find this impossible to watch. It is an insult.
Better that I say goodbye. Better to have clean nothing than dirty remnants. Better not to be friends.
I can only apologise for my intemperance. It has led me to this ultimatum. It has made me choose – and I have chosen the truth. You will not love me again and I will not wake to your beautiful drowsy smile.
And now I am all at sea – gasping and flailing, a fool thrown overboard. Yet surely the threat of drowning is more than enough reason to swim.
So here I am – staying afloat, hoping for islands – sending you love and letting you go. x
Love letter # 83
If I have called your name out a hundred times it was simply to bring you near, to conjure you out of sound, to have you here once more.
If I have imagined you at odd hours it was only to let this walled up love run, to spend this beauty on you … to pretend.
All because, for a few weeks back then, you loved me and I loved you in return – and just like it says in that song: we were amazing.
I could easily be a fool for saying it but I would still give it all for you.
Love letter # 75
This won’t be much of a love letter because my words are fast turning to sound.
Just as the smallness of sky becomes the vastness of space, so too this light inside me – so too this beauty you made. Now it will not be contained in a sentence. Now it is shining.
In my head, the nouns and verbs are being subsumed. In my heart, all other details have turned to brilliance. There is nothing left but this. This is the absolute emptiness; and everything is here.
Most importantly you.