Love letter # 111

You came back to my thoughts today; although the truth is you never left them. There may be a thousand miles between us now but that space is nothing, erased by the light falling just so, bridged by half a melody.

Whatever happened happened – I see no need for blame, feel no cause for shame. We were imperfect but for a moment at least we wore the raiment of angels. When you kissed me I was king – and when I adored you, what a star you were.

Yet with all this distance, all our closeness turned to silence, all our knowing just guessing … I can still feel what it was that made it shine. It was always more than just the turn of your head or the miracle of your favour. It was a promise momentarily believed. It was a kind of finding.

And if this is a kind of loss – darling, it’s still sweet. For in the illogical maze of my thinking you are still dancing in front of me, your eyes are still the brightest lights I’ve seen.

I might still hold a candle for you – but by its softening light I now walk forward.

Love letter # 148

The beauty of compassion. The wonder of your hair unbraided. The exhaled sigh. The almost impossible cool of your skin. The terrible weight of your leaving. Your soft footsteps. Waking beside you. Hearing you breathe. To have known you. How could I have wished it otherwise?

In the light of morning, you are the angel of the day. In the thickness of evening, I can barely stand. In the sea that is my memory, I hold out my hand for you. And when the light goes out …

Be with me, be with me, be with me.

Love letter # 171

When I learnt to care about you I learnt to get over myself. Loving you saved me from the obsessive drama of the ego. Without necessarily planning it, you threw open the gates to something other than me, me, me – and as a result I am lighter.

The cannibalising introspection that ruled my days has become a night of splendour, a night spent loving you. By letting me give, you helped me loose the chains of control. Today the flag is unfurled, snapping gladly in the cleansing air. And why? Because what I always wanted was not mine for the taking – but mine to offer gladly.

And with your permission, I would be honoured to offer it you.

Love letter # 486

It’s like this; you walk around a corner and there it is – just like it’s always been there. Maybe you overlooked it before; perhaps you were just too busy. I mean, we all get distracted.

Then, like some flower in the garden you never gave much thought to, you are caught up in the sudden beauty of it all. You have no time to prepare a defence because now there are lovely arms around you. Now your head is full of song. Is not the heart the abruptest of organs?

You know what I’m going to say next: that you have burst into my life with serendipitous speed. I know I could stop to question it, to pick it all apart, but I’m not going to. This time I’ll go with it.

Here … this is me jumping. This is me flying. With you. Surprising, wonderful you.

Love letter # 189

I’ve been crying. Not sad. Overwhelming. Just thinking of you.

I had a foolish dream, you see: me cooking you dinner, singing that corny song we both love out loud. Wringing the juice out of it. Making it sigh. Making the sun shine for both of us. Our little heaven. Your unbelievable beauty. My incredible luck.

Oh God, hear it comes again – that tide of euphoria. And these tears will clean the grime out of me. Make me good for you.

The gift you give me is that you let me give to you. You say yes to the flood – and in that rush I will likely drown. And somewhere in this lovely sea, just below the surface, where the light is unbearably beautiful, I am floating next to you.

Love letter # 803

When I thought I had forgotten you – how I was reminded. With a solitary word you were all over me, rushing through my line of defence, carried by blood. All my composure went. I was unmasked.

And there was a flood so sudden, like heaven dropping pearls. If I had thought to walk away from you, now I simply crawl. I can put an ocean between us; you still bridge it with your breath.

The hard shell I sought to grow – just splinters now. The distance is a lie, the silence simply a lack of sound. You will never be far from me. You are the beginning of a song away, as near as the thought of evening.

Oh honey, now I remember.