Love letter # 411
For though it once bled dry, now again it is the spring. If in the desert it once drained, now the sea it fills again. Though darkness fell and night was black, now once more the dawn has come. And in the light, the beating strong; the thirsty, parching doubt now gone.
Love letter # 451
I am sending you this with some reservation; not because I harbour any shame but because I realise that the culture of suspicion we currently live in does not really encourage us to express ourselves in this fashion. Especially one as old as me to one so young as you.
However, I am not writing to gush ridiculous, besotted fantasy or furtive lust but to remark upon something that is truly wonderful about you. In fact, not just you, but your boyfriend also. In short, when I see the two of you together I am filled with a kind of sunshine. There is a palpable beauty in the air between you. Simply to know that such a thing still exists is, for me, cause for a kind of hope.
Now I’m not so nostalgic and rose tinted as to accuse you of being perfect. Surely you two have your troubles and most likely you keep them well out of sight. I imagine also that you and he are prone to same excesses, shortfalls and denials as the rest of us. Yet what a treasure it is to see the light that passes between you and the tenderness that beams in your lovely smiles.
Whatever the future holds for you – either as a couple or individually – please know that the gem you share is not only rare but a thing of both power and grace. You may well lose it at some point – none of us can ever be truly sure about these things – but I believe that simply to once have held it your hand will carry you both forward when times are darker than they are now.
You are indeed the lucky ones and I pray only that you extract every last nuance of joy and understanding from the good fortune to have formed such an obviously beautiful union.
Love letter # 498
Though I may have behaved badly, please do not doubt my love – or at least my honest belief that this is what this feeling is. I am flawed. I get angry and jealous and can be petty, insecure and controlling. All these things were in me before you came along – perhaps they will persist after you have finally had enough.
You have helped me understand that I act out because I am afraid; scared that you won’t love me, that nobody could possibly love me. You are also helping me to see that my controlling behaviours do not help the situation; that playing the victim or being the bully are both doomed strategies. But please, I’m not asking you to be my teacher or my shrink – only that you be patient. That you find a way to want to be beside me.
I won’t grovel because I know that’s also a stupid game – I will simply own up and promise to do my utmost. This may not be enough. In fact, it may be an utterly pointless gesture. Right now, without lapsing into old habits, there is probably not much more I can realistically offer you. I get that apologies and promises ring hollow after a while, that they even seem like lies and manipulation, so I will make no predictions, offer no guarantees.
Instead, I shall say simply that I love you as much as it is possible for me to give love and if you are inclined to believe this I will take that alone as treasure and I will cherish it.
Love letter # 364
Forgive me, but there is a dreadful song that reminds me of us. It was a summer hit back when lust and opportunism threw us into bed and into our brief, optimistic affair. But hey, we were kids and hormones and hope were enough to obscure what we always knew to be true – that we were simply not suited.
Remember how your parents disapproved; how they wanted another kind of man entirely for their darling princess? It was fun for a while, wasn’t it – toying with their displeasure? Pretending to be teenage rebels? Or maybe that was just me.
Not that any of it matters now. Our lives have unfolded in their separate ways and time has dissolved any leftover pain and regret. Now we’re just like old songs. Accidents on the airwaves.
But here’s the thing, the reason I’m sending you this … that crappy old song took me right back to the brink of your kiss. To the night when curiosity and proximity took over. When I tasted you. Felt the solid, animal warmth of you. Had so many crazy, sudden ideas bursting in my head. And do you know what – just for a few minutes I missed you, almost loved you again.
Now, in the calm and mature morning, I am laughing at the cute persistence of my own folly but also I am acknowledging the fire and the sweetness and the validation you gave to me. In a way, from this distance, I can perhaps see you more clearly than young lust allowed.
So thank you. I know our little tryst wasn’t much – but it was something – and even now I carry the jewel of it in my heart. I hope, in some small way, that you do too.