FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Sorry

  • Love letter # 574

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Naïve, I conceded. Arrogant, you suggested. I thought my love would be enough. It was not. The anchor chains were heavier than my foolish affection. There was no simple wishing away, no kissing it better. We required something more resolute than passion. When things did not change, I did not take heed; and soon my…

  • Love letter # 678

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    We are never so alone as when we impose loneliness on ourselves. As we have done with our various refusals. It took a moment of magic to bring us together, but that was followed by a marathon of detail, a slow adding up of insistence. Now here we are. Stranded. With our clutter and our…

  • Love letter # 923

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Zooming out from the grit of specifics, from the aggravated dramas of relationship, all contention dissolves. All claims, all theories, all righteous insistence. At a certain remove there is only love. Like an ocean, or all of time. Perspective, absolution. The beauty of irrelevance. I ask only your forgiveness for my inevitable shortfall. When next…

  • Love letter # 578

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    You ask me why, knowing there is no ready answer. These things are not rational. There is no checklist. Love is not given as a prize, nor as a reward for effort. I realise this sounds harsh – evasive – for I have been you more often than not. I have longed for, courted, endeavoured…

  • Love letter # 610

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I have been a selfish lover. Sorry I did not realise it sooner. I genuinely thought I was being sensitive. Attentive. Inventive. Perhaps to some degree I was, but I see now that the focus has always been on my own pleasure first. In effect, I have not been a fully present partner, and I…

  • Love letter # 604

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    They will not love you. They do not know how. Not like you would prefer. I say this to myself to make it better. For me, but also for you. Because I do not wish to resent you. There is little point, and you do not deserve it. My asking never implied your acceptance. I…

  • Love letter # 516

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    It’s true, I look at couples and see us. And there is a fracture in my heart. Hairline, but there. Like you once were. Before I chose. Of course I wonder; did I chase one thing and end up with another. Is this the mirage of my longing? I wanted this – whatever this is…

  • Love letter # 519

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Please wait, you said…and in the ark of patience I loved you…until the distance became just that…a space beyond traversing…and then another, a fire closer than hope and memory. Please forgive me…I failed the test of time and distance…looking across the chasm of waiting…desire dissolving in increments to a numb new reality…my head finally turned…wishing…

  • Love letter # 616

    —

    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.…

  • Love letter # 472

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Did I try to change you? I should not have. They were my bruises.