Love letter # 4

Mostly it doesn’t matter but when it does … it does; and it’s then that I realise how much I miss you.

I pretend that everything is as it should be. I act the part of someone who has drawn a line. I have all the right language, all the appropriate behaviours – and everyone is fooled. Life goes on. Mark it down to experience. There are other fish.

But when the bandages come off the blood is still sweet, the bedroom still cold – and I wish that you were here with me.

Some days this tide lasts a minute, others an hour, but the knowing is always the same, the longing true. The fact that you live a short walk away, that your number is in my phone, that we have this undeniable brilliance whenever we are together …

I have given up asking why. Forensics won’t make it any better.

Anyway, I apologise for this fit of indulgence. I’m sure I could go on for ages; instead I will say only this: I offer you my love and all the honouring that goes with it. No bitterness. No recrimination. No cruel re-writing. And even though I miss you like oxygen I will never try to hold you in.

There is a breathtaking beauty at the heart of everything and you help me see it. Thank you.

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