FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Sad

  • Love letter # 0707

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    14. That’s how many years. Since you sat across from me. Dissolved me in your gaze. Seems like forever now. Yet…but an instant. A thought. The triggering of a current in my wires. I may not be the same man, but the body holds the charge you left in me. The memory tells its story…

  • Love letter # 518

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    We said no, even though we were on the cusp of yes. Looking at old phone footage – the way we interact, how close we stand, the way our bodies seem to signal a kind of unity – I see it clearly. More than ever. But it wasn’t to be. Our unspoken dance dissipated, morphing…

  • Love letter # 551

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    We paused on the brink of forever and left with never. So close to everything yet ending with nothing. Had you leant in for that kiss, I would not be here now. And you? Where would you be tonight?  

  • Love letter # 539

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    5:47pm. It is the precise colour of my love for you. The angle of the light is just about cutting me in two. The irrecoverable years. The distance of my inability to say. The distance of your other life. I take solace in present company. Sunlight on a solitary stem of wild grass. The bustle…

  • I know at last the power of not knowing

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in , ,

    You set in motion a chain of extraordinary events in me, by an act of authoring not yet fully understood. Perhaps it was simply something you allowed. In the space you created, the quiet had their say, the imperfect were permitted, the vain became irrelevant. And our fear turned to awe, thanks to a force…

  • Love letter # 467

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    In clear headed moments I know you no longer think of me as I still think of you; and I am fine with this. I do not seek to rewrite history. When you said you loved me, you meant it –  just as you did, minutes later, when you said you couldn’t stand me. We…

  • Love letter # 862

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    When you moved away, you took the world with you. A gutted replica remained. The outline of something, nearly nothing. I traversed the hollow streets – the excavated avenues – and how they did echo. The empty rooms we left behind. A resonant quiet in place of song. That was years ago. Now, returning, I…

  • Love letter # 656

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    What if you are happier elsewhere? What if this is not working for you? Would I hold on? Would there even be a point to that? If I saw that look in your eye – that gazing into the distance of another – would I love you enough not to close mine? I will not…

  • On observing the brutality of time

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    A non-descript morning. Solo coffee, people watching. No hint of rupture. And then it happens. Two strangers. Him old, her young, side by side at the counter. I see him look at her. She does not flinch. Does not notice. He bows his head. I sense what he senses. The ocean. He scuffs along, elderly,…

  • Love letter # 616

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    “I’m not opposed.” you said. How was I meant to proceed after that? Sure, it was consent, an allowance, but it wasn’t even lust, let alone love. I had courted you, and in the process my desire had deepened beyond affection and into genuine care. And then…a first kiss. My body and heart on fire.…