Love letter # 343

It is as simple as this: I think of you and a wave of warmth and tenderness washes over me and all of my fears dissolve in that moment.


Love letter # 469

The sheer power of a solitary word can sometimes be overwhelming; like when I struggle to say your name out loud. It is as though my body remembers the very shape of the breath it takes to form the sound and, in doing so, goes back in time. To the singing temple bell of your hello. To the warm sea of your gaze.

Someone asked me about you yesterday and at the mere mention of you I was not simply transported but shaken apart by the precise earthquake of one single word. Your name. Nothing more

Today I am wondering if there is anything else. Perhaps this amazing physical wave of surrender is the only truly liberating force available to us. The only thing that will take down the facades we so carefully construct to obscure the truth from ourselves.

Your name is the ocean – and even now I remain in its flood. What a sublime testament to the space we created in our time. Thank you, my love – for I am blessed once more.

Love letter # 322

There are so many reasons to say no. Like the world. And bruises. Like all the busted myths we no longer believe. And the fact that it’s easier to be alone than to contemplate another wound. Cos we’re so over scars, aren’t we? I mean, who needs the drama. It’s just so fucking teenage. So vomitously Hollywood. No one in their right mind buys that rom-com, soulmate shit anymore. Least of all you and me.

So walk away, my cynical star. Turn around. Go home to your cat. To fucking Facebook. Me, I’ll just stay here. Bottle of red. A thousand songs of heartache. Bleeding like a river, despite all the clotting agents. But they’ll never break our hearts again, will they? Oh no.

For even though it melts me just to look at you sometimes, I’m far too cool and together to let it all become something as absurd as love. Not in a million years.

Which is just how you want it, right?

Love letter # 762

I think you know how grateful I am. It could so easily have been different. A turn of the corner here, a small delay there, and the river of chaos that bumped us together would have swept us oblivious to destinations we can now only wonder about.

Our real fortune, of course, is that we both have what the other most wanted to find. Not missing parts but matching courage. The vision fearless.

Now we both laugh at the absurdity of those around us, at their ridiculous, ineffective levers of control. Together we have discovered the strength to reject all of their bloated ‘thou shalt not’ narratives, to see through the phoney divisions of class, gender and sexuality that those around us wished to have us accept. Have tried so hard to force down our throats. Only we don’t swallow.

Perhaps in a year or two they will be grinning triumphally saying ’I told you so’ but even if the grind and the differences do get on top of us we will have had the experience of today. We will have held out for something more than obedience and TVs. Than monochromatic suburban smallness. Than sticking to the party line and hating ourselves for it.

It sounds a trifle romantic, I know – but in your arms I have found stars hitherto unglimpsed. Reason for living scarcely permissible in the narrow, must have, status obsessed straits of work & spend, amuse & medicate.

Okay, so these fighting words may well come back to bite, but I will have loved you in the interim and known your love in return. For this, I shall forever give thanks. Because now that we are together we are scared of nothing – and I will never forget how good this feels.