Love letter # 387

It’s the fall of your hair. The lustrous cascade of it. The gorgeous wave it has. Those golden highlights. More than just beautiful; borderline majestic. For when you free it from its workaday constraint and it flows like a sparkling river of light, I too am simply swept along. As though I were a strand, dancing to the cool cadence of your stride, or a melody line in the beguiling and ever mysterious hymn you sing to the higher ideal. That such a simple thing should somehow offer hints of the unfathomable often leaves me speechless – with nothing left to understand; only that I love you.

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Love letter # 405

Sometimes, it’s true, I wish I had never met you; but then I count up all the blessings that flowed from the destructive path that your advent tore through the city of my complacency and I am truly thankful. My dissolving at your touch was without doubt the most far reaching and ultimately affirming experience of my adult life. If I once cursed your name I whisper it now like incantation. If you were the lighter of fires, I have become the shaper of cinders. From the deluge you heralded: the river, the flood plain, the sustaining bounty. Thanks heavens I met you.

Love letter # 351

Suppose I loved you in a way that wasn’t hearts and flowers; that did not accord with the staples of Western romance? Would you still recognise it? What if I never said that I wanted you to be mine, or I yours? If I never ask you to marry me or speak of us as a couple, or refer to you as my girl, will it still feel like love to you?

I only ask because I am wondering if we mistake the trappings and rituals for the thing itself. Do we reduce our love to spectacle? To signs? Indeed, does it make any sense to speak of love without some form of display, without the act of loving? For it may well be that the love unshown is the love unknown. That love is more than a pristine idea.

So, how can we do the love most truly, without the distortions that the fear of breaking so often manifest or the kitsch of chocolates? This, lover, is our challenge. Are you ready?

Love letter # 404

When we obliterate the triviality of detail, when we pass through the frontier of control, all we have is the golden light. The pure, unbounded enfolding. The embrace that is not withheld for the want of names or the quibble of character. It is the sea we never leave; in which we are all drowning. Fragile swimmers.

In this extraordinary vastness we are swooning. Inside this immensity we shall neither be lost nor found, woman nor man. Just motes in the eye of the shining. Which shall not blink for judgement – only see. And we … we shall simply be.

Love letter # 360

What is now obvious to me, and I suspect to you as well, is that there is a kind of love that transcends the usual bounds – that has nothing to do with possession or control and does not sit within the cutesy little ring fence of chocolate box romance. Indeed, it is a form of loving that outlasts being together. I am honoured to have had and to still share this remarkable bond with you.

Years may have gone by since the word ‘couple’ applied to us but in your presence, even on the phone, the indefinable and unmappable space we carved out of nothing when we were poetic and hopeful kids still nourishes me. I am thankful to have known the sublime recognition. Of another. Of myself. And each time we linger in this realm together I am reminded and confirmed.

I say this now, not because I miss it, for it is still here, but rather because that mad, heady promise of ‘love you forever’ looks almost certain to be upheld.