Dear E. F.,
This feeling is still in adolescence, and it might be birthed in my own, but I keep it close as I would my own child and it grows larger and stronger each time I see you - every smile, laugh, shared feeling and thought aggrandizes it to the point that I have to draft this out because I'm not sure I could relate its full message in person. Your heart, mind, goals, priorities...everything. I love you, I think, or whatever this feeling is called before it ripens.
I know this site is filled half-full with my own letters to other people, but this is not impulsive like all those were. This has had time to grow stronger, a taste that, cooking through with these constant flames (like those of Purgatory, perhaps - strong but harming only impurity) has come to season too slowly for my own patience.
I'm not afraid to say it; that's not why I write this. If I was ashamed of it, I wouldn't lay it out here where all eyes can see. I don't fear ridicule, because I know any applied to me would be unwarranted. Right now the only thing I surely fear is the answer I receive from that voice I've known for years, but whose worth only recently have come to appreciate fully.
That said, I ask if you don't feel the same stirrings when you think of me that you don't (as I know a caring soul as yours will) do as I have done and foster illusions in your , but I ask that if you've seen this before for me that you tell me.
I would, of course, love to see you soon.
'Love,
E.K.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
To Noelle
Dear Noelle,
The two of us could be much more,
It occurs to me in thinking o'er
Our heartfelt times and honest words
That strike the very telling chords
Of something intent in the murk
Where softly stirring somethings lurk,
Mention, whisper, and, I find,
Will not go unheard by my mind.
We fear the treason doubtings find
Ingrained in saying my goodbye
To her and letting "you and I"
Blossom, bloom, so let it lie,
Let it wither, let it die.
Many tears will slip my eye,
But I'll consent to never try.
If you wish, want, and will,
From but a tap I'll ask my fill,
Let constraints control its drip,
And watch it slowly trickle, slip
Into a newly broken crack
In my heart, encased in black.
Love?,
He who would be Dylek
The two of us could be much more,
It occurs to me in thinking o'er
Our heartfelt times and honest words
That strike the very telling chords
Of something intent in the murk
Where softly stirring somethings lurk,
Mention, whisper, and, I find,
Will not go unheard by my mind.
We fear the treason doubtings find
Ingrained in saying my goodbye
To her and letting "you and I"
Blossom, bloom, so let it lie,
Let it wither, let it die.
Many tears will slip my eye,
But I'll consent to never try.
If you wish, want, and will,
From but a tap I'll ask my fill,
Let constraints control its drip,
And watch it slowly trickle, slip
Into a newly broken crack
In my heart, encased in black.
Love?,
He who would be Dylek
Sunday, September 28, 2008
To Unspecified
Before I begin, I will point out that you may and very well should find this letter out of line. At first, I had no intention of writing to you, but I cannot seem to get you off of my mind. It is like an addiction, and your words are my drug. The thoughts of you in my mind grow stronger every time we speak, and even more so when we cannot.
With this, it is here that I speak to you of my true feelings.
Ever since we first exchanged words, I have been completely entranced by your demeanor. The ways you perceive life's sweet mysteries with such fearlessness inspires me to do the same. You're never afraid to say what you think to be true, and are not fazed by the possibility that you're wrong (or right, for that matter). And although there's a slim chance that I'll obtain the same fluency with words and thoughts as you do, your persistence and drive are always a source of encouragement.
Now, it seems that although we have only known each other a few weeks, my feelings have blossomed into something insuppressible, something that makes my insides ache with want, something (dare I call it Love?) that makes me think of nothing but us together, against everything that stands in our way. And even though there are quite a few things that rest between us, I cannot help but daydream about crushing those walls and crusading into the seamless day, just the two of us. Together.
Okay, so I know that sounds cliché; however, it seems that my mind cannot wrap itself around the proper words (never mind putting them into coherent sentences). I'm beginning to come to the realization that for you, there are no words.
There truly is nothing that I can say that would possibly encompass everything that I feel and think in regards to you.
And I must say, it takes someone pretty powerful to do that.
Anyways, let me continue.
Something to look forward to.
Ever since I first spoke with you, although it wasn't long ago as I said before, this is what you've given me. Every time I open my eyes I hope that maybe, just maybe you'll be there to intercept my gaze. And when you are? Well, then I never really know what to do with myself. I wish that it would happen, and when it does, it's like I didn't think it ever would. You catch me by surprise, every time.
And I think I'm in love with you.
I'm not really sure. I don't think I've ever been in love before. How am I supposed to know what it feels like? Ah well. I don't have a word for this feeling yet, so I guess for now that's what it'll be called. Love.
Although… I'm not sure how I could be in love with you, even if I am. How close are you supposed to be with a person before you know if you're in love with them? You seem nice enough, and we seem to share similar tastes. Maybe I'm jumping ahead of myself. I tend to do that a lot.
You're one of the only people in the world I can truly talk about anything with. And of those people, you're the only one I've felt this strongly about. (May I also mention that upon speaking to you about these various topics, you receive them with superior poise and never leave me with nothing for advice?) For this, I am most grateful.
I hope I do not scare you away with my words, but rather, it is my wish that you will accept them for what they are: the truth.
It would be too much to ask that you feel the same way, for I know that you chart your own course and I would hate for you to do something that went against what you felt was right. My only wish is to get to know you even better than I do now and maybe someday…
Well, I'll leave that for later.
I shall end for now and in looking forward to speaking to you again, I give to you all of my love, in hopes you will receive it.
With this, it is here that I speak to you of my true feelings.
Ever since we first exchanged words, I have been completely entranced by your demeanor. The ways you perceive life's sweet mysteries with such fearlessness inspires me to do the same. You're never afraid to say what you think to be true, and are not fazed by the possibility that you're wrong (or right, for that matter). And although there's a slim chance that I'll obtain the same fluency with words and thoughts as you do, your persistence and drive are always a source of encouragement.
Now, it seems that although we have only known each other a few weeks, my feelings have blossomed into something insuppressible, something that makes my insides ache with want, something (dare I call it Love?) that makes me think of nothing but us together, against everything that stands in our way. And even though there are quite a few things that rest between us, I cannot help but daydream about crushing those walls and crusading into the seamless day, just the two of us. Together.
Okay, so I know that sounds cliché; however, it seems that my mind cannot wrap itself around the proper words (never mind putting them into coherent sentences). I'm beginning to come to the realization that for you, there are no words.
There truly is nothing that I can say that would possibly encompass everything that I feel and think in regards to you.
And I must say, it takes someone pretty powerful to do that.
Anyways, let me continue.
Something to look forward to.
Ever since I first spoke with you, although it wasn't long ago as I said before, this is what you've given me. Every time I open my eyes I hope that maybe, just maybe you'll be there to intercept my gaze. And when you are? Well, then I never really know what to do with myself. I wish that it would happen, and when it does, it's like I didn't think it ever would. You catch me by surprise, every time.
And I think I'm in love with you.
I'm not really sure. I don't think I've ever been in love before. How am I supposed to know what it feels like? Ah well. I don't have a word for this feeling yet, so I guess for now that's what it'll be called. Love.
Although… I'm not sure how I could be in love with you, even if I am. How close are you supposed to be with a person before you know if you're in love with them? You seem nice enough, and we seem to share similar tastes. Maybe I'm jumping ahead of myself. I tend to do that a lot.
You're one of the only people in the world I can truly talk about anything with. And of those people, you're the only one I've felt this strongly about. (May I also mention that upon speaking to you about these various topics, you receive them with superior poise and never leave me with nothing for advice?) For this, I am most grateful.
I hope I do not scare you away with my words, but rather, it is my wish that you will accept them for what they are: the truth.
It would be too much to ask that you feel the same way, for I know that you chart your own course and I would hate for you to do something that went against what you felt was right. My only wish is to get to know you even better than I do now and maybe someday…
Well, I'll leave that for later.
I shall end for now and in looking forward to speaking to you again, I give to you all of my love, in hopes you will receive it.
To he that will never know
To he that will never know,
You know me. We’ve met. We’re friends, even, and I’m sure we’ll see each other many many times in the future. I wouldn’t want it any other way, except…
I knew you before then. Sort of. We’ve been in some of the same theater productions, and then, that one time we were councilors together for the theater camp. It was so much fun, you, our two other friends, and myself, all hanging out doing something we all enjoyed.
You have to understand that I don’t just fall for guys. Love at first sight is a romantic idea, and I wish (oh how I wish) that might happen to me someday, but it hasn’t happened yet. I have to get to know them first, and even then, my affections are slow to grow… cautious even. Is my new friend already taken? Although one can still love another even if they are taken (that is the basis behind many a tragic love story) but I am afraid that, well, I’m afraid. I’m afraid to get my hopes up over someone just to find out that they do not feel the same way and will probably never feel the same way, therefore leaving me behind in the dust with my own muddy thoughts. I’m afraid that even bringing up the subject of a relationship would ruin everything… not that I could probably ever find the courage to bring up such a topic… so I wait. I watch and wait.
Unlike the boys at my school, you were always the gentleman, always polite, and always so congenial. For someone like me, who goes by personality, you were an A+ in my book. You fit just about everything I could think of in my idea of the perfect guy. You were easy to talk to, and we councilors did have so much fun that summer. And then, as that camp’s end began to loom, I started to feel something… something more than before. You always could bring a smile to my face when we talked, but I started to smile just at the thought of you. Seeing you made might heart flutter, just the slightest bit. And suddenly, it became harder for me to talk to you. I started to get nervous about talking with you. How could I speak to you when at any moment I might say something that would reveal my thoughts and feelings to the world? Should I just tell you? No, I didn’t (and still don’t) have the courage to tell you my feelings I had at that time.
I also had a dream about you one night. You and I were so close, but in the end, so very far apart. I dreaded the meaning of the dream, for I had the feeling it was trying to tell me something important. And I didn’t want to hear what it had to say. Not knowing what to do, I turned to a friend, and asked what I should do, and in one simple reply, I learned something about you that I had never known before. Apparently, I did not know you as well as I had thought.
Looking back on it, I feel stupid for having not seen it before. Not to judge, but it was rather obvious, had I been looking. Love can sometimes leave us blind, I guess. Simply by being yourself, we were never meant to be together, and that little flutter of hope inside me fell crashing to the ground.
I think I did love you. My first ever real crush. Now I think I know why they call it a ‘crush.’ Because though it’s sweet like the orange soda, it’s easily shattered like the glass containing it. But I cannot hold a grudge. Would I really want you to be anyone but who you are? No. We’re still friends. And you will never know that I once entertained the hope that it might be otherwise. And that is fine. And though a my heart still aches a little every time I see you now, I smile for you. I put on my mask. I’d rather you stayed ignorant of this fact and stayed happy than find out and be saddened by my pain. (Or am I more afraid that you wouldn’t be sorry at all?) You still mean enough to me that I wouldn’t want to cause you pain. You’re my friend. And that’s how it will stay.
I realize this story is rather pitiful when compared to just about any other love story, and this isn’t so much a love letter as a sad story about a girl who fell for the wrong guy, but I still can’t help but imagine what would have happened had I told you… would you have changed? Probably not, but I can dream…
~ By one who is lost in the darkness of confusion
You know me. We’ve met. We’re friends, even, and I’m sure we’ll see each other many many times in the future. I wouldn’t want it any other way, except…
I knew you before then. Sort of. We’ve been in some of the same theater productions, and then, that one time we were councilors together for the theater camp. It was so much fun, you, our two other friends, and myself, all hanging out doing something we all enjoyed.
You have to understand that I don’t just fall for guys. Love at first sight is a romantic idea, and I wish (oh how I wish) that might happen to me someday, but it hasn’t happened yet. I have to get to know them first, and even then, my affections are slow to grow… cautious even. Is my new friend already taken? Although one can still love another even if they are taken (that is the basis behind many a tragic love story) but I am afraid that, well, I’m afraid. I’m afraid to get my hopes up over someone just to find out that they do not feel the same way and will probably never feel the same way, therefore leaving me behind in the dust with my own muddy thoughts. I’m afraid that even bringing up the subject of a relationship would ruin everything… not that I could probably ever find the courage to bring up such a topic… so I wait. I watch and wait.
Unlike the boys at my school, you were always the gentleman, always polite, and always so congenial. For someone like me, who goes by personality, you were an A+ in my book. You fit just about everything I could think of in my idea of the perfect guy. You were easy to talk to, and we councilors did have so much fun that summer. And then, as that camp’s end began to loom, I started to feel something… something more than before. You always could bring a smile to my face when we talked, but I started to smile just at the thought of you. Seeing you made might heart flutter, just the slightest bit. And suddenly, it became harder for me to talk to you. I started to get nervous about talking with you. How could I speak to you when at any moment I might say something that would reveal my thoughts and feelings to the world? Should I just tell you? No, I didn’t (and still don’t) have the courage to tell you my feelings I had at that time.
I also had a dream about you one night. You and I were so close, but in the end, so very far apart. I dreaded the meaning of the dream, for I had the feeling it was trying to tell me something important. And I didn’t want to hear what it had to say. Not knowing what to do, I turned to a friend, and asked what I should do, and in one simple reply, I learned something about you that I had never known before. Apparently, I did not know you as well as I had thought.
Looking back on it, I feel stupid for having not seen it before. Not to judge, but it was rather obvious, had I been looking. Love can sometimes leave us blind, I guess. Simply by being yourself, we were never meant to be together, and that little flutter of hope inside me fell crashing to the ground.
I think I did love you. My first ever real crush. Now I think I know why they call it a ‘crush.’ Because though it’s sweet like the orange soda, it’s easily shattered like the glass containing it. But I cannot hold a grudge. Would I really want you to be anyone but who you are? No. We’re still friends. And you will never know that I once entertained the hope that it might be otherwise. And that is fine. And though a my heart still aches a little every time I see you now, I smile for you. I put on my mask. I’d rather you stayed ignorant of this fact and stayed happy than find out and be saddened by my pain. (Or am I more afraid that you wouldn’t be sorry at all?) You still mean enough to me that I wouldn’t want to cause you pain. You’re my friend. And that’s how it will stay.
I realize this story is rather pitiful when compared to just about any other love story, and this isn’t so much a love letter as a sad story about a girl who fell for the wrong guy, but I still can’t help but imagine what would have happened had I told you… would you have changed? Probably not, but I can dream…
~ By one who is lost in the darkness of confusion
Sunday, August 31, 2008
To Unspecified
I don’t know your name.
Not for any romantic reason, either. It’s just that I have a terrible memory for names, and besides, the music was so loud that I could barely hear you telling me what it was.
So forgive me for not addressing this letter to you personally. I really don’t think you can take offence, seeing as you’re not actually going to read it. And if you did read it, your English (while still being about fifty times better than my Italian) would probably not allow you to understand much of it anyway.
Besides, I don’t expect you can remember my name, either.
I could really have saved a lot of time by writing Dear X, or Dear Pretty Riviera Spectre, but never mind.
I suspect that if this letter gets posted, it will look even colder and paler next to the intensity and passion in some of the others than it does here all by itself on my screen. But I can’t help that.
It also occurs to me that none of this is really a big deal anyway. And not worth writing poems over. But I can’t help overreacting to things either. And the poem is here – although I hardly remember writing it now, and I’m not really sure where on earth it came from – so I feel I might as well let it go where it wants to go. Which, for some reason, seems to be here.
So here you go:
Hang me up like a star
tripping from the spiderweb sky, and
humdrum swaying from side to side.
It’s not that I don’t like you,
or that your eyes and your skin
aren’t soft enough, or look
as though they can’t bear touching.
Float me out to sea –
just hear me out –
float me over tonguing flashfire froth
and black malady,
and don’t let me hunger
the rock-slime up again
or ever come back at all.
It’s not that I don’t like you –
if I could just find
a way to say it –
it’s not anything,
but I can never seem to help
getting absorbed
into the dark.
Not for any romantic reason, either. It’s just that I have a terrible memory for names, and besides, the music was so loud that I could barely hear you telling me what it was.
So forgive me for not addressing this letter to you personally. I really don’t think you can take offence, seeing as you’re not actually going to read it. And if you did read it, your English (while still being about fifty times better than my Italian) would probably not allow you to understand much of it anyway.
Besides, I don’t expect you can remember my name, either.
I could really have saved a lot of time by writing Dear X, or Dear Pretty Riviera Spectre, but never mind.
I suspect that if this letter gets posted, it will look even colder and paler next to the intensity and passion in some of the others than it does here all by itself on my screen. But I can’t help that.
It also occurs to me that none of this is really a big deal anyway. And not worth writing poems over. But I can’t help overreacting to things either. And the poem is here – although I hardly remember writing it now, and I’m not really sure where on earth it came from – so I feel I might as well let it go where it wants to go. Which, for some reason, seems to be here.
So here you go:
Hang me up like a star
tripping from the spiderweb sky, and
humdrum swaying from side to side.
It’s not that I don’t like you,
or that your eyes and your skin
aren’t soft enough, or look
as though they can’t bear touching.
Float me out to sea –
just hear me out –
float me over tonguing flashfire froth
and black malady,
and don’t let me hunger
the rock-slime up again
or ever come back at all.
It’s not that I don’t like you –
if I could just find
a way to say it –
it’s not anything,
but I can never seem to help
getting absorbed
into the dark.
Monday, August 25, 2008
To A
Dear A,
You can’t get closer than this, I thought, stirring my coffee and smiling. Without looking up, I knew you’d be sitting there with that look in your brown eyes. Serious, concerned, intense, frightened. You were just a boy, just a nervous little boy. And I didn’t care. It doesn’t matter who we are, or when we are, or where. All that matters is doing the right thing with the time that is given to us. We joked around, and I remember envying myself. And all the girls you’d meet in the future, and the girls of your past. To have a part of your life, to be close to you, that’s all that’s important. The necessity for anything more is stupid. Why would you want more than just one instant of perfection? If everything is perfect always, how could you relax? You’d always live in fear of a collapse. Of the end of things. Take each minute as it comes, take risks, forget to care. That’s what you taught me. And it’s a lesson I intend to remember. Memory’s a funny thing. Six weeks forward from that day, six weeks forward from realising that I, you, we were on the brink of something, and I still am there, still stuck in Starbucks with a cup of coffee and a poem on a piece of folded paper that you’d just handed to me. It’s a beautiful poem. And it’s one I intend to keep. Maybe when I’m brave enough I’ll stick it up onto my wall, make a collection of all the precious things people have given me; which reminds me, I haven’t worn the necklace my first boyfriend bought me since the day we split up. Funny how that sort of thing happens. But that’s a shame, because it is a beautiful necklace. Who cares that the beads are made of glass? It’s real, artisan-crafted glass, from Venice. But even that isn’t why it’s precious. I like trophies, because I like to remember people by the things they gave, which is why part of me finds it annoying that the second and third boys I went out with never gave me anything tangible to keep. But then again, it’s hardly surprising. They didn’t really affect my life in the same way. Alec did because he was the First Boyfriend, and you did because well, you were The First, in the full, overblown dramatic sense of that phrase. And I’m glad it was you; I wouldn’t have had it any other way. You were so close to being perfect that it almost hurt every time I was with you. [censor'd?]And I know if you ever read this (which you won’t) you’d find the innuendo in that and laugh. [end censor]I mostly remember you laughing. You were always laughing about something or other. You were playful, childish, wonderful. In all my life I have never known anyone like you, and yet... you are nothing special! How does that work? I don’t understand how you can be someone so utterly perfect, utterly amazing, and yet be pretty **** ordinary. I remember your intensity though. You are a healer. You made me feel so much safer with you than with anyone. That’s why I knew we were right together. And even though it was only for a very, very short space of time, you made sense. We made sense. The ‘us’ that we had was important to me. I don’t care that it lasted hardly any time at all. You will come back to me, as a friend, and I look forward to it. And maybe one day, if (as people have said and I am ignoring) you come back to me as a lover, it will be wonderful. Life is cyclical. It has a funny way of tying up loose ends. Maybe we’ll turn out to be a loose end that needs tying up. Maybe we could spend the rest of our lives together. Maybe, somewhere out there in a strange loop of time, we will. I won’t hold my breath, because you’ve taught me how to live, and I am **** well going to. I look forward to the rest of my life.
Much Love,
C x
You can’t get closer than this, I thought, stirring my coffee and smiling. Without looking up, I knew you’d be sitting there with that look in your brown eyes. Serious, concerned, intense, frightened. You were just a boy, just a nervous little boy. And I didn’t care. It doesn’t matter who we are, or when we are, or where. All that matters is doing the right thing with the time that is given to us. We joked around, and I remember envying myself. And all the girls you’d meet in the future, and the girls of your past. To have a part of your life, to be close to you, that’s all that’s important. The necessity for anything more is stupid. Why would you want more than just one instant of perfection? If everything is perfect always, how could you relax? You’d always live in fear of a collapse. Of the end of things. Take each minute as it comes, take risks, forget to care. That’s what you taught me. And it’s a lesson I intend to remember. Memory’s a funny thing. Six weeks forward from that day, six weeks forward from realising that I, you, we were on the brink of something, and I still am there, still stuck in Starbucks with a cup of coffee and a poem on a piece of folded paper that you’d just handed to me. It’s a beautiful poem. And it’s one I intend to keep. Maybe when I’m brave enough I’ll stick it up onto my wall, make a collection of all the precious things people have given me; which reminds me, I haven’t worn the necklace my first boyfriend bought me since the day we split up. Funny how that sort of thing happens. But that’s a shame, because it is a beautiful necklace. Who cares that the beads are made of glass? It’s real, artisan-crafted glass, from Venice. But even that isn’t why it’s precious. I like trophies, because I like to remember people by the things they gave, which is why part of me finds it annoying that the second and third boys I went out with never gave me anything tangible to keep. But then again, it’s hardly surprising. They didn’t really affect my life in the same way. Alec did because he was the First Boyfriend, and you did because well, you were The First, in the full, overblown dramatic sense of that phrase. And I’m glad it was you; I wouldn’t have had it any other way. You were so close to being perfect that it almost hurt every time I was with you. [censor'd?]And I know if you ever read this (which you won’t) you’d find the innuendo in that and laugh. [end censor]I mostly remember you laughing. You were always laughing about something or other. You were playful, childish, wonderful. In all my life I have never known anyone like you, and yet... you are nothing special! How does that work? I don’t understand how you can be someone so utterly perfect, utterly amazing, and yet be pretty **** ordinary. I remember your intensity though. You are a healer. You made me feel so much safer with you than with anyone. That’s why I knew we were right together. And even though it was only for a very, very short space of time, you made sense. We made sense. The ‘us’ that we had was important to me. I don’t care that it lasted hardly any time at all. You will come back to me, as a friend, and I look forward to it. And maybe one day, if (as people have said and I am ignoring) you come back to me as a lover, it will be wonderful. Life is cyclical. It has a funny way of tying up loose ends. Maybe we’ll turn out to be a loose end that needs tying up. Maybe we could spend the rest of our lives together. Maybe, somewhere out there in a strange loop of time, we will. I won’t hold my breath, because you’ve taught me how to live, and I am **** well going to. I look forward to the rest of my life.
Much Love,
C x
Friday, August 8, 2008
To that that one special guy
To that one special guy-
I still love you. Lord knows I've tried to deny it, I tell myself almost every morning that it's all over. That I look at you and don't feel anything anymore. But then we joke and you look at me with that smile, and I know that I'm right back where I started. My heart pounds when I get close to you, when I "accidentally" brush up against you. One thing I've learned through the last few years that I've known you and loved you is that I'm a very jealous person. Sometimes I think you treat me different than the other girls, and it makes me feel special. But then I see you being the same with some other girl that you are with me, and I resent her. I've always wanted you just for me, to be my boy. It's so hard for me because I know you'll never feel the same way about me that I do about you. I never want to lose our friendship, it's become one of the most treasured things in my life. It's just sometimes I still wish that you'd look at me the way I look at you. That you'd think of me of more than just another friend, that I'd have some sort of special place in your heart. I know you've probably seen me do some pretty stupid stuff, but that's what happens when you start running out of ways to get closer to someone you're already incredibly close to. I just think that if I could get a little closer you'd see me in a different light. You'd see me as someone you could trust and someone you could give all your love to. You're without a doubt the most amazing person I've ever met in my life. You're funny and talented and you have a great moral character. You know when to be silly and when to be serious, you really know who you are and what you believe in. That's something I've always admired about you, you really seem to know who you are, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of you. Then I told you how I felt, through a letter, like now. Your reaction was surprising at best. You didn't even acknowledge it, but you were visibly uncomfortable. You never said a word, one way or the other. Then it just kind of disappeared, and I was grateful. We could still be friends and I’d have nothing to worry about. It's been killing me since Freshman year to see you with all these other girls and wonder if there was something there. Then you started dating her. I must admit, I didn't see that one coming. Of all the girls I had been watching over the last two years I never suspected her. This was after you knew how I felt about you. It was a strange feeling, knowing that I had feelings for you at the same time you were developing feelings for her. And then you broke up, and I secretly celebrated. My heart, which refused to give up despite my will, was back in the game. And so it went, through this year. I still wished, I still made up things to see, like you flirting with me, starting to feel for me. I decided to set my sights on other guys, but I never felt the way I do about you, I knew I couldn’t deny it anymore. I still liked you... a lot. But I decided to bury it all and just go on the way we have been, only an idiot would ruin such a great friendship. Now my sights have been unconsciously set on another girl. Do you like her? Does she like you? I don’t know, but to me it sure seems that way. I wish I didn’t care, I wish I could just be your friend and be happy with it. But something inside me keeps telling me that I’m meant for you. I know it sounds crazy, it does to me too, but it’s the way I feel. And I know that it will never go away. You’ll probably never read this, because I don’t want ruin what we already have. Heck, I don’t even know how much you care about me, even as a friend. I don’t know what I am to you, and sometimes I’m not sure what you are to me. Maybe it’s best to just leave it alone and let myself think that you’re just a good friend. Maybe now I’ll be able to move on. I hope. But probably not.
I still love you. Lord knows I've tried to deny it, I tell myself almost every morning that it's all over. That I look at you and don't feel anything anymore. But then we joke and you look at me with that smile, and I know that I'm right back where I started. My heart pounds when I get close to you, when I "accidentally" brush up against you. One thing I've learned through the last few years that I've known you and loved you is that I'm a very jealous person. Sometimes I think you treat me different than the other girls, and it makes me feel special. But then I see you being the same with some other girl that you are with me, and I resent her. I've always wanted you just for me, to be my boy. It's so hard for me because I know you'll never feel the same way about me that I do about you. I never want to lose our friendship, it's become one of the most treasured things in my life. It's just sometimes I still wish that you'd look at me the way I look at you. That you'd think of me of more than just another friend, that I'd have some sort of special place in your heart. I know you've probably seen me do some pretty stupid stuff, but that's what happens when you start running out of ways to get closer to someone you're already incredibly close to. I just think that if I could get a little closer you'd see me in a different light. You'd see me as someone you could trust and someone you could give all your love to. You're without a doubt the most amazing person I've ever met in my life. You're funny and talented and you have a great moral character. You know when to be silly and when to be serious, you really know who you are and what you believe in. That's something I've always admired about you, you really seem to know who you are, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of you. Then I told you how I felt, through a letter, like now. Your reaction was surprising at best. You didn't even acknowledge it, but you were visibly uncomfortable. You never said a word, one way or the other. Then it just kind of disappeared, and I was grateful. We could still be friends and I’d have nothing to worry about. It's been killing me since Freshman year to see you with all these other girls and wonder if there was something there. Then you started dating her. I must admit, I didn't see that one coming. Of all the girls I had been watching over the last two years I never suspected her. This was after you knew how I felt about you. It was a strange feeling, knowing that I had feelings for you at the same time you were developing feelings for her. And then you broke up, and I secretly celebrated. My heart, which refused to give up despite my will, was back in the game. And so it went, through this year. I still wished, I still made up things to see, like you flirting with me, starting to feel for me. I decided to set my sights on other guys, but I never felt the way I do about you, I knew I couldn’t deny it anymore. I still liked you... a lot. But I decided to bury it all and just go on the way we have been, only an idiot would ruin such a great friendship. Now my sights have been unconsciously set on another girl. Do you like her? Does she like you? I don’t know, but to me it sure seems that way. I wish I didn’t care, I wish I could just be your friend and be happy with it. But something inside me keeps telling me that I’m meant for you. I know it sounds crazy, it does to me too, but it’s the way I feel. And I know that it will never go away. You’ll probably never read this, because I don’t want ruin what we already have. Heck, I don’t even know how much you care about me, even as a friend. I don’t know what I am to you, and sometimes I’m not sure what you are to me. Maybe it’s best to just leave it alone and let myself think that you’re just a good friend. Maybe now I’ll be able to move on. I hope. But probably not.
To five wonderful women
Once there was a boy (some would say "young man," but inside he was really a boy) who fell in love very easily. He had loved once before and his heart missed it (having someone to love and who loved him so) and decided that it wanted romantic love again.
He met one woman (whom some who did not know her might call a girl until they knew her better) who spun tales from the aether and made him laugh like her smile saw into his own heart. He offered it to her, but it was not for her.
He met another whose mind seemed a prism that refracted life's lights as his did. They both found its scintillating colors and sounds and smells and tastes and textures and people to be endlessly fascinating and lovable. They both found that touching others' hearts and minds was one of their greatest loves. but, alas, neither was the other's greatest love. The boy offered her his heart, but it was not for her.
One woman (like the first, some who did not know her said "girl") he only saw through a window, yet in their minds they walked down many roads where she would pick up a stone and show it was a gem, and present to him facets he would never otherwise have noticed, and then she would show him there was no road and take him away from the oft-trodden ground and into skyscapes that seemed without end, and they flitted there like butterflies for hours. He offered her his heart, but was not for her.
He met another whose mind she kept behind tumblers around which shone soft white light, but he could not convince her to open it for him. Perhaps, he supposed, he did not deserve it. The boy offered his heart, but it was not for her.
He spoke with another through his window who was and remains a constant companion and would grab his hand to pull him out of many a haze and fog and hold it forever afterwards. The boy offered her his heart, but it was not for her.
All these had hearts that poured out love that flowed like a cool stream of foundry gold and minds that spun music from the stars, but the they and the boy found that his heart was not for any of them. But don't feel sad for him; it meant, that his heart was for someone he could and did look forward to meeting. He wrote these words and hoped each woman would read them and know why she would be forever in his memories.
Sincerely,
Eldon/Satyesu
He met one woman (whom some who did not know her might call a girl until they knew her better) who spun tales from the aether and made him laugh like her smile saw into his own heart. He offered it to her, but it was not for her.
He met another whose mind seemed a prism that refracted life's lights as his did. They both found its scintillating colors and sounds and smells and tastes and textures and people to be endlessly fascinating and lovable. They both found that touching others' hearts and minds was one of their greatest loves. but, alas, neither was the other's greatest love. The boy offered her his heart, but it was not for her.
One woman (like the first, some who did not know her said "girl") he only saw through a window, yet in their minds they walked down many roads where she would pick up a stone and show it was a gem, and present to him facets he would never otherwise have noticed, and then she would show him there was no road and take him away from the oft-trodden ground and into skyscapes that seemed without end, and they flitted there like butterflies for hours. He offered her his heart, but was not for her.
He met another whose mind she kept behind tumblers around which shone soft white light, but he could not convince her to open it for him. Perhaps, he supposed, he did not deserve it. The boy offered his heart, but it was not for her.
He spoke with another through his window who was and remains a constant companion and would grab his hand to pull him out of many a haze and fog and hold it forever afterwards. The boy offered her his heart, but it was not for her.
All these had hearts that poured out love that flowed like a cool stream of foundry gold and minds that spun music from the stars, but the they and the boy found that his heart was not for any of them. But don't feel sad for him; it meant, that his heart was for someone he could and did look forward to meeting. He wrote these words and hoped each woman would read them and know why she would be forever in his memories.
Sincerely,
Eldon/Satyesu
Sunday, August 3, 2008
To my family
Dear (so very dear) family,
Thank you all for all your help through this time. I don't even know the whole extent of what you did when I couldn't have learned of it, but the stories I'm told warm my heart. Thank you so much.
Love for all of you,
Eldon
Thank you all for all your help through this time. I don't even know the whole extent of what you did when I couldn't have learned of it, but the stories I'm told warm my heart. Thank you so much.
Love for all of you,
Eldon
Thursday, July 31, 2008
To Lauren
Dear Lauren,
Ah, Lauren. I go back to add “dear.” Often I worry it will not be taken well, but I know you’ll appreciate it. You really are an excellent companion; I miss talking to you tonight. You’re a kind soul and a natural thinker, but to describe might be to classify. Know, though, that description might not be able to do justice to how much I appreciate you.
We’ve both expressed having inklings of infatuation for the other (isn’t alliteration fun?), and my preference is generally to place as few stunters on blossoming relationships of any sort. Let’s not limit, not classify – if you will.
A rather short letter. It’s hard to write more, having said about all I can word and still knowing you less than I’d like. To refer to one of my favorite metaphors, I hope you reveal more of your stars soon.
Love and thank you so much,
Eldon, Satyesu…you know.
Ah, Lauren. I go back to add “dear.” Often I worry it will not be taken well, but I know you’ll appreciate it. You really are an excellent companion; I miss talking to you tonight. You’re a kind soul and a natural thinker, but to describe might be to classify. Know, though, that description might not be able to do justice to how much I appreciate you.
We’ve both expressed having inklings of infatuation for the other (isn’t alliteration fun?), and my preference is generally to place as few stunters on blossoming relationships of any sort. Let’s not limit, not classify – if you will.
A rather short letter. It’s hard to write more, having said about all I can word and still knowing you less than I’d like. To refer to one of my favorite metaphors, I hope you reveal more of your stars soon.
Love and thank you so much,
Eldon, Satyesu…you know.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
To my dearest Love
My dearest Love:
Has it already been 5months since I learned of your existence? Time flies. I remember the party at my place. After everyone left, we sat and talked. I was so drawn to you then, and I didn’t even know you. Now, you seem to be part of my soul. Not a day goes by when I don’t think of you.
Last night, I dreamt I heard you calling my name. I woke up in a sweat, the heat of my body was both nerves and the knowledge of my dream. [editor's note: PG-13 stuff starts?]I heard you calling out as you leapt over the precipice of lust, and you woke me from a deep sleep. My soul called out to you and I could not fall back to a restful slumber. One day, I will be there when you take that leap, and it will be both of us leaping together.[PG-13 ends]
I want to tell you something, yet I am scared to do so. I don’t want you to think I’m odd, or worse yet, crazy for saying this. Our souls have known each other for centuries. You even identified me by an old name. One that I have never told anyone before. So, to that end, I love you. I have known for a long time. I completely understand if you don’t. Love me, that is. I know that for some it is hard to love someone from messages and talking on the phone. [PG-13-ness starts]Someday soon, I hope we can meet again so we can explore the lust that follows the love I feel. [PG-13 ends]
For now, just know that I love you and that love is infinite.
I hope to meet you soon.
Love,
Lina
Has it already been 5months since I learned of your existence? Time flies. I remember the party at my place. After everyone left, we sat and talked. I was so drawn to you then, and I didn’t even know you. Now, you seem to be part of my soul. Not a day goes by when I don’t think of you.
Last night, I dreamt I heard you calling my name. I woke up in a sweat, the heat of my body was both nerves and the knowledge of my dream. [editor's note: PG-13 stuff starts?]I heard you calling out as you leapt over the precipice of lust, and you woke me from a deep sleep. My soul called out to you and I could not fall back to a restful slumber. One day, I will be there when you take that leap, and it will be both of us leaping together.[PG-13 ends]
I want to tell you something, yet I am scared to do so. I don’t want you to think I’m odd, or worse yet, crazy for saying this. Our souls have known each other for centuries. You even identified me by an old name. One that I have never told anyone before. So, to that end, I love you. I have known for a long time. I completely understand if you don’t. Love me, that is. I know that for some it is hard to love someone from messages and talking on the phone. [PG-13-ness starts]Someday soon, I hope we can meet again so we can explore the lust that follows the love I feel. [PG-13 ends]
For now, just know that I love you and that love is infinite.
I hope to meet you soon.
Love,
Lina
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
To he who never noticed
To he who never noticed -
Hi. I don't know if you ever really noticed me, but I was the girl standing over there in the corner smiling at you the whole night. And all day at school. And all afternoon at the park. Oh and I waved hi to you at the mall, but I don't think you noticed, but it's okay. No, I'm not stalking you, it just so happens that our paths cross all the time and every time they do, it makes me smile. Yet, our paths cross all the time and I don't think you even know my name. That's an exaggeration, I know. I know you know my name, cause we were assigned to work on a history project together. You never actually showed up to work on it, but I didn't mind helping out and doing your share. I mean, that's what friends are for right? And I really liked studying about the space program so it was fine. No worries. I was a little upset though when you didn't show up for prom. You had said that you would dance with me. But again, I understand that you were busy or grounded or something - I'm sure you had a good excuse for forgetting to pick me up like you promised.
I was happy to bump into you at the bookstore. It seemed like ages since last I saw you. And you remembered my name! I could have done cartwheels I was so excited. You didn't need to apologize though for the history project, like I said, I enjoyed studying more about the space program, so it all works out. I'm really looking forward to hanging out with you. Who would have thought that after knowing you for seven years, you would finally want to hang out with me. I know you mean it just as friends, but the way you look into my eyes and that smile you give me I can't help but hope that maybe friendship might lead to something more. That maybe, just maybe you might finally see me.
But there I go again, hoping. It'll forever be my downfall I know. I am so unaccustomed to receiving attention from guys that when ever one does pay attention to me I can't help but hope that maybe there is something deeper behind it. You hold the door open for me and offered to pay for my movie ticket. You waited to see that I made it safely inside the house before you drove off. You shared your thoughts and dreams with me and came to my rescue when I needed help or a shoulder to cry on. We sat up till the early morning hours talking about life, the universe and everything and listening to movie soundtracks and discussing the latest comics. I loved the treat you gave me for my birthday. Walking through the apple orchard in the middle of the night hand in hand was the perfect way to end the evening. Though, it would have been better had you noticed the way I was looking into your blue grey eyes. You had your arm around me and yet I know you felt nothing. My hopes at finally being able to kiss you were dashed that evening.
Here we are now nearly twelve years later. We sit together on the sofa watching tv like an old couple snuggled up under a blanket and sipping hot cocoa. I lay my head on your shoulder and you put your arm around me and we sit and watch tv, making small comments every now and then. We go out for chinese and have our set pattens and customs. You tell the same jokes over again and I complain about work. Like clockwork you show me to the door at two in the morning and we hug. I occassionally pluck up enough courage to kiss you on the cheek, but I don't do it too often because I know it makes you uncomfortable. We say goodnight and the whole scene will repeat in two days time.
Tonight though I'm planning on changing the routine. Tonight is New Years Eve and tonight is the one night in the entire year that I can get away with kissing you and have it not be weird. Cause it's tradition you know - to kiss someone at midnight. If you become very uncomfortable I can save the situation and blame it on the holiday and we'll laugh it off. And if it doesn't make you uncomfortable, perhaps then, finally, after nearly twelve years of being right in front you, you might for one moment notice me and all of the love I have for you.
Hi. I don't know if you ever really noticed me, but I was the girl standing over there in the corner smiling at you the whole night. And all day at school. And all afternoon at the park. Oh and I waved hi to you at the mall, but I don't think you noticed, but it's okay. No, I'm not stalking you, it just so happens that our paths cross all the time and every time they do, it makes me smile. Yet, our paths cross all the time and I don't think you even know my name. That's an exaggeration, I know. I know you know my name, cause we were assigned to work on a history project together. You never actually showed up to work on it, but I didn't mind helping out and doing your share. I mean, that's what friends are for right? And I really liked studying about the space program so it was fine. No worries. I was a little upset though when you didn't show up for prom. You had said that you would dance with me. But again, I understand that you were busy or grounded or something - I'm sure you had a good excuse for forgetting to pick me up like you promised.
I was happy to bump into you at the bookstore. It seemed like ages since last I saw you. And you remembered my name! I could have done cartwheels I was so excited. You didn't need to apologize though for the history project, like I said, I enjoyed studying more about the space program, so it all works out. I'm really looking forward to hanging out with you. Who would have thought that after knowing you for seven years, you would finally want to hang out with me. I know you mean it just as friends, but the way you look into my eyes and that smile you give me I can't help but hope that maybe friendship might lead to something more. That maybe, just maybe you might finally see me.
But there I go again, hoping. It'll forever be my downfall I know. I am so unaccustomed to receiving attention from guys that when ever one does pay attention to me I can't help but hope that maybe there is something deeper behind it. You hold the door open for me and offered to pay for my movie ticket. You waited to see that I made it safely inside the house before you drove off. You shared your thoughts and dreams with me and came to my rescue when I needed help or a shoulder to cry on. We sat up till the early morning hours talking about life, the universe and everything and listening to movie soundtracks and discussing the latest comics. I loved the treat you gave me for my birthday. Walking through the apple orchard in the middle of the night hand in hand was the perfect way to end the evening. Though, it would have been better had you noticed the way I was looking into your blue grey eyes. You had your arm around me and yet I know you felt nothing. My hopes at finally being able to kiss you were dashed that evening.
Here we are now nearly twelve years later. We sit together on the sofa watching tv like an old couple snuggled up under a blanket and sipping hot cocoa. I lay my head on your shoulder and you put your arm around me and we sit and watch tv, making small comments every now and then. We go out for chinese and have our set pattens and customs. You tell the same jokes over again and I complain about work. Like clockwork you show me to the door at two in the morning and we hug. I occassionally pluck up enough courage to kiss you on the cheek, but I don't do it too often because I know it makes you uncomfortable. We say goodnight and the whole scene will repeat in two days time.
Tonight though I'm planning on changing the routine. Tonight is New Years Eve and tonight is the one night in the entire year that I can get away with kissing you and have it not be weird. Cause it's tradition you know - to kiss someone at midnight. If you become very uncomfortable I can save the situation and blame it on the holiday and we'll laugh it off. And if it doesn't make you uncomfortable, perhaps then, finally, after nearly twelve years of being right in front you, you might for one moment notice me and all of the love I have for you.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
To ----
Dear ----.
This is weird. I don't know if I'm in love with you, but I'm certainly completely and utterly crazy about you. Head-over-heels, taken by surprise. Can't quite believe it myself, if I'm honest. Because although it feels like this is just casual (and for your sake, I try to maintain that it is, because I know you don't want intensity right now) there is something in me screaming out that this is amazing. It's all so new, and yet so familiar. If this is love, I've been in love before. Except this still feels somehow different.
The memory of my previous boyfriends (when I was with them, thinking back over the time we'd spent together) would make me feel shivery and excited, awake, I suppose. You do that too, but in a different degree. It's all so much calmer. Particularly since we made the agreement that whilst you're away on holiday, we're allowed 'freedom'. I'm still not sure if I'm happy with that. Except, I am, because we've narrowed down the limits so that (in some way) I win. I come out on top, no matter what.
I'm so jealous though, I've never been jealous of my boyfriends' exes before, mainly because I've (deliberately?) gone out with guys for whom I am their first 'proper' girlfriend. And especially a girl like your ex. She's amazing, we all know that. And we all knew how crazy you two were about each other. I suppose I'm paranoid about the two of you because I don't understand how you can break up from such an intense relationship and yet remain friends, almost as though nothing's happened. It doesn't make sense. And the fact that she must have known exactly what she was doing, and how the two of you had so much 'experience' togeter. [editor's note: PG-13 stuff begins] Before I met you, I was (physically) innocent, in many ways. And yet, I'm not. It's all complicated, but I explained this to you, the first night we spent together. I'm terrified of guys with experience, and you know why. So we don't need to go into details. But you made it all safe. You made me feel protected, and even when I thought I was fine with everything, you picked up on the underlying terror I was feeling all along. How come you're so perceptive? I don't understand. So in some ways, I'm worried about this, because I feel so numb. I'm not used to this lack of, well, obsession. Normally when I'm crazy about someone, in the way I am about you, even the memory of kissing them, the memory of touching their hands, the way they looked at me at certain moments... those sorts of physical memories normally make part of me shiver, make me smile. Whereas with you, I'm almost physically numb. Is it because I'm scared? Because you know what you're doing? Because you've made it so... safe? Unless it's something deeper and this isn't right for me and I hadn't realised...[PG-13 stuff ends]
Except that it's definitely not that, because a few days ago, when we were talking and from something you were saying I was almost certain you were breaking up with me, I was terrified. I couldn't bear to lose you (already? After three weeks? Oh, my god. How pathetic must that seem?) And for instance, now, after I sent you that text at midnight last night, that slightly mad (creepy?) text telling you that I miss you already because you've gone on holiday and I might not see you for... oooh... a week? It's all true. I do miss you. I want you here, because when you are here, everything becomes so simple. Being in your arms, in your presence, the world makes sense. And now, of course, I'm terrified, because you haven't texted back. Maybe you've lost your phone - you can't have run out of credit, you're on contract - maybe your battery's died. Maybe you've already reached your destination and so you're busy, too busy to text. I don't know. But the lack of reply is making me feel anxious. I don't want you to think I'm crazy. Except that I am.
So yeah, your second girlfriend is also crazy. You do pick 'em, don't you.
Much love,
Cxxx
This is weird. I don't know if I'm in love with you, but I'm certainly completely and utterly crazy about you. Head-over-heels, taken by surprise. Can't quite believe it myself, if I'm honest. Because although it feels like this is just casual (and for your sake, I try to maintain that it is, because I know you don't want intensity right now) there is something in me screaming out that this is amazing. It's all so new, and yet so familiar. If this is love, I've been in love before. Except this still feels somehow different.
The memory of my previous boyfriends (when I was with them, thinking back over the time we'd spent together) would make me feel shivery and excited, awake, I suppose. You do that too, but in a different degree. It's all so much calmer. Particularly since we made the agreement that whilst you're away on holiday, we're allowed 'freedom'. I'm still not sure if I'm happy with that. Except, I am, because we've narrowed down the limits so that (in some way) I win. I come out on top, no matter what.
I'm so jealous though, I've never been jealous of my boyfriends' exes before, mainly because I've (deliberately?) gone out with guys for whom I am their first 'proper' girlfriend. And especially a girl like your ex. She's amazing, we all know that. And we all knew how crazy you two were about each other. I suppose I'm paranoid about the two of you because I don't understand how you can break up from such an intense relationship and yet remain friends, almost as though nothing's happened. It doesn't make sense. And the fact that she must have known exactly what she was doing, and how the two of you had so much 'experience' togeter. [editor's note: PG-13 stuff begins] Before I met you, I was (physically) innocent, in many ways. And yet, I'm not. It's all complicated, but I explained this to you, the first night we spent together. I'm terrified of guys with experience, and you know why. So we don't need to go into details. But you made it all safe. You made me feel protected, and even when I thought I was fine with everything, you picked up on the underlying terror I was feeling all along. How come you're so perceptive? I don't understand. So in some ways, I'm worried about this, because I feel so numb. I'm not used to this lack of, well, obsession. Normally when I'm crazy about someone, in the way I am about you, even the memory of kissing them, the memory of touching their hands, the way they looked at me at certain moments... those sorts of physical memories normally make part of me shiver, make me smile. Whereas with you, I'm almost physically numb. Is it because I'm scared? Because you know what you're doing? Because you've made it so... safe? Unless it's something deeper and this isn't right for me and I hadn't realised...[PG-13 stuff ends]
Except that it's definitely not that, because a few days ago, when we were talking and from something you were saying I was almost certain you were breaking up with me, I was terrified. I couldn't bear to lose you (already? After three weeks? Oh, my god. How pathetic must that seem?) And for instance, now, after I sent you that text at midnight last night, that slightly mad (creepy?) text telling you that I miss you already because you've gone on holiday and I might not see you for... oooh... a week? It's all true. I do miss you. I want you here, because when you are here, everything becomes so simple. Being in your arms, in your presence, the world makes sense. And now, of course, I'm terrified, because you haven't texted back. Maybe you've lost your phone - you can't have run out of credit, you're on contract - maybe your battery's died. Maybe you've already reached your destination and so you're busy, too busy to text. I don't know. But the lack of reply is making me feel anxious. I don't want you to think I'm crazy. Except that I am.
So yeah, your second girlfriend is also crazy. You do pick 'em, don't you.
Much love,
Cxxx
Saturday, July 26, 2008
To someone
Dear…I don’t even know who I’m writing this to.
No matter – I am determined to make this a love letter, and anyone who knows me would never doubt that I could. Your visionary spirit, it’s indomitable, they tell me. Some would call it blistering ambition. You can call it what you like. I like to believe that we cannot be found in texts of reference or facts blinking back like stone. We are limitless.
I do not know what a love letter is; I do not know what it should say, but I do not believe I need to know, because some things go deeper than words. There is no one person I write this to; this is for anyone who is the history, the present and the tomorrow of love. This is for anyone who drinks my words like water and lets them sustain, lets them touch something so raw we can only twist ourselves around the feeling and hold on; let it carry us over tides and rend itself in a great storm. This is for you. I want you to feel everything I say with the fervour of a flame consuming every thought, every idea that ever lifted itself off a page and came alive in your hands. We keep them in our pockets, little stone hearts that rattle to the tune of the red birds singing in cages of powder dry bone. Hold me before I fire because my words can cut deeper than any rock, and bodies are like spider-web in the wind. We are so fragile.
The edge of my breath is jagged as the cliffs I rip my hearts from – I know there will be nobody to read this when I’m done, because this is not made of crystal and my words shackle thoughts that will always be locked in me; they are mine only. I wish I could unroll the fabric of my dreams and let them trickle and flood silver and gold over gulfs of humanity – for we are apart even when we press hands, bodies, lips, hearts and minds together till there are no boundaries and a song of the ages sings in veins joined as one. But I cannot; and you cannot, either. Because I can only speak and minds can never truly meet. Because what I say struggles against the limit of meaning. Meaning is our constant – it lets us measure the world against words but what we didn’t know when we made them was that we were constricting our world into neat compartments – a pill a day, a label, a name; an idea buried in a box. It is up to us to set them free.
But the sorrow of being human was not what I wanted to kill. I want to kill all the pain of loving you and seeing myself skate like a reflection over your mind. I want to be more than your afterthought. I want this for everyone who has ever loved someone and not had an answering voice sing their harmony like a fragrant harbour to home to. I want this for everyone who has ever been lost, who has ever shed sea and blinked salt at something that bobs just beyond your fingers, anyone who has ever hurt and writhed and touched the centre of their capacity for pain. I do not know your measure until you show me your heart’s grief, but this is the flimsy comfort I can give you, for I am human and I am as frail as what I do.
Every moment with you is a strand that weaves the tapestry of my story – for I am the imprint of the people I meet. As the heartbeats tick down I clutch what I can to my chest, crush it with the fervour of my feeling because I cannot imbue you with what I feel. I walk heavy because we will have no tomorrow. You may be the space between my words but your silence starves me and my hunger is one for the ages – I could devour all of you and still be left wanting.
I’m sorry I spoke and I wish we weren’t written on our skin and walls that pulse with my blood – words line my veins and sway my heart so dangerously far it almost slips between my fingers. It’s a shackle reserved by time and it bolts me to the door I push, but I have peddled pity and nothing pays the price of the key. We weathered the sea but you forgot that I cannot float without you. I sank when you left but I couldn’t drown because you’d stolen my breath and I didn’t even know, because we don’t need to breathe under water.
You told me you loved me and it was the other head speaking a language I was too young to understand, so I chose not to listen.
You tell me I am god and it’s all I can do to straighten your facts like bookshelves as I say, I’m only a woman. You bathe in the salt of my tears and I shed them not for you but you knew that anyway. Words embrace me across the span of the globe and the threshold of distance flares for a second before sputtering in the ponderous wind. We weigh down and I do not tell you that every word I say is poetry because it cost me, and everything worth having is worth toiling for. I toiled beyond you. I thought I died for you but here I am, still so full of words each casting like a stone to skip over bodies (of water) and I wish I could fly that far, too.
I would tell you that my love is boundless but the very word holds everything I ever wanted to say to you, so I cannot.
I love you. That is all.
No matter – I am determined to make this a love letter, and anyone who knows me would never doubt that I could. Your visionary spirit, it’s indomitable, they tell me. Some would call it blistering ambition. You can call it what you like. I like to believe that we cannot be found in texts of reference or facts blinking back like stone. We are limitless.
I do not know what a love letter is; I do not know what it should say, but I do not believe I need to know, because some things go deeper than words. There is no one person I write this to; this is for anyone who is the history, the present and the tomorrow of love. This is for anyone who drinks my words like water and lets them sustain, lets them touch something so raw we can only twist ourselves around the feeling and hold on; let it carry us over tides and rend itself in a great storm. This is for you. I want you to feel everything I say with the fervour of a flame consuming every thought, every idea that ever lifted itself off a page and came alive in your hands. We keep them in our pockets, little stone hearts that rattle to the tune of the red birds singing in cages of powder dry bone. Hold me before I fire because my words can cut deeper than any rock, and bodies are like spider-web in the wind. We are so fragile.
The edge of my breath is jagged as the cliffs I rip my hearts from – I know there will be nobody to read this when I’m done, because this is not made of crystal and my words shackle thoughts that will always be locked in me; they are mine only. I wish I could unroll the fabric of my dreams and let them trickle and flood silver and gold over gulfs of humanity – for we are apart even when we press hands, bodies, lips, hearts and minds together till there are no boundaries and a song of the ages sings in veins joined as one. But I cannot; and you cannot, either. Because I can only speak and minds can never truly meet. Because what I say struggles against the limit of meaning. Meaning is our constant – it lets us measure the world against words but what we didn’t know when we made them was that we were constricting our world into neat compartments – a pill a day, a label, a name; an idea buried in a box. It is up to us to set them free.
But the sorrow of being human was not what I wanted to kill. I want to kill all the pain of loving you and seeing myself skate like a reflection over your mind. I want to be more than your afterthought. I want this for everyone who has ever loved someone and not had an answering voice sing their harmony like a fragrant harbour to home to. I want this for everyone who has ever been lost, who has ever shed sea and blinked salt at something that bobs just beyond your fingers, anyone who has ever hurt and writhed and touched the centre of their capacity for pain. I do not know your measure until you show me your heart’s grief, but this is the flimsy comfort I can give you, for I am human and I am as frail as what I do.
Every moment with you is a strand that weaves the tapestry of my story – for I am the imprint of the people I meet. As the heartbeats tick down I clutch what I can to my chest, crush it with the fervour of my feeling because I cannot imbue you with what I feel. I walk heavy because we will have no tomorrow. You may be the space between my words but your silence starves me and my hunger is one for the ages – I could devour all of you and still be left wanting.
I’m sorry I spoke and I wish we weren’t written on our skin and walls that pulse with my blood – words line my veins and sway my heart so dangerously far it almost slips between my fingers. It’s a shackle reserved by time and it bolts me to the door I push, but I have peddled pity and nothing pays the price of the key. We weathered the sea but you forgot that I cannot float without you. I sank when you left but I couldn’t drown because you’d stolen my breath and I didn’t even know, because we don’t need to breathe under water.
You told me you loved me and it was the other head speaking a language I was too young to understand, so I chose not to listen.
You tell me I am god and it’s all I can do to straighten your facts like bookshelves as I say, I’m only a woman. You bathe in the salt of my tears and I shed them not for you but you knew that anyway. Words embrace me across the span of the globe and the threshold of distance flares for a second before sputtering in the ponderous wind. We weigh down and I do not tell you that every word I say is poetry because it cost me, and everything worth having is worth toiling for. I toiled beyond you. I thought I died for you but here I am, still so full of words each casting like a stone to skip over bodies (of water) and I wish I could fly that far, too.
I would tell you that my love is boundless but the very word holds everything I ever wanted to say to you, so I cannot.
I love you. That is all.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
To Carly
Carly,
It saddens me
To see my precedent
So often set by
Those to whom life
Is a game,
A hunt -
And they the hunters.
I hope these keytooth lines
Each find a tumbler in your mind,
Push back the bars of that vault
So its lock can freely turn,
Releasing all the dream-things within.
By connecting the dots
Of soft white light -
Stars
In your constellation
You have shown me -
I see parts
Of a picture
That give me hope
Of seeing its entirety.
Love of an unidentified sort,
Eldon
It saddens me
To see my precedent
So often set by
Those to whom life
Is a game,
A hunt -
And they the hunters.
I hope these keytooth lines
Each find a tumbler in your mind,
Push back the bars of that vault
So its lock can freely turn,
Releasing all the dream-things within.
By connecting the dots
Of soft white light -
Stars
In your constellation
You have shown me -
I see parts
Of a picture
That give me hope
Of seeing its entirety.
Love of an unidentified sort,
Eldon
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
To Luna
Luna -
So I might not be in love with you, but I do love you and it is a pleasure to know you. You are beautiful inside and out, and I appreciate the trust you have placed in me. I will not betray or tarnish it. You are open and honest and even as you hide nothing, you have nothing that should be hidden.
You have many burdens to bear - even some that are not yours - and you bear them with a smile. I respect that so much. Please be assured there are those of us willing to help with them.
Love,
Eldon
So I might not be in love with you, but I do love you and it is a pleasure to know you. You are beautiful inside and out, and I appreciate the trust you have placed in me. I will not betray or tarnish it. You are open and honest and even as you hide nothing, you have nothing that should be hidden.
You have many burdens to bear - even some that are not yours - and you bear them with a smile. I respect that so much. Please be assured there are those of us willing to help with them.
Love,
Eldon
Sunday, July 20, 2008
To Someone
Dear Someone~
Wow. The time passed so quickly. It seems like nothing like that could ever happen to me again. I hate that feeling. The entire time was just amazing. There's no other word. Trust, me I've tried to find other words to describe what we had. There simply aren't any.
You were my boyfriend, best friend, everything. Sadly none of that exists any more. I wish it did. Any of it. To have that connection with you again would make everything easier for me. So why did it end? For obvious reasons of course.
I just wish you could still be my best friend. The problem with that is, best friends can trust each other. I can't trust you any more. Stupid things that happened two months ago did that to us. I hate that something so small can tear us apart... If I would've known sooner... Things would be different. We would still be best friends and you wouldn't feel like ****. I wish I could make you feel better about yourself, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do any more. It's in your hands. But I suppose it's your fault you feel like ****, anyway.
I don't mean I'm blaming you for what happened. That wouldn't be fair. I mean that if you would've told me in the first place, you would've only felt like **** for a couple days instead of a couple months. Probably more. For all I know, you still feel terrible even though I told You I'm over it. And I am.
I wasn't actually upset about what happened. That wasn't really too bad. I'm upset that you thought you couldn't trust me to still be there for you. And I'm upset because I gave you my heart and my trust, which took a long time for me to give, you know that, and you broke both of them in one swoop.
Now it's only going to be harder for me to trust guys in the future. Before I didn't really have any reason to disbelieve or be afraid of giving away my heart and my trust, and it took me almost a month and a half for me to give them to you. Now I'm afraid how long it'll take for me to trust in the future.
I guess the thing that really kills me is that you were my absolute best friend. That girl, you know which one I'm talking about, who claims to be my best friend is far too shallow to be more than an aquaintance to anyone. And you... You were there for me in so many ways whenever I needed you. When that crap happened with my sister, you were there. We weren't even dating then, but you were there for me. When I just needed someone to remind me that I mattered, you made me feel like the most important person in the world. I'm sure you'll still be there for me, but it's just not the same.
The thing that killed me the most about all of this was that I loved you, but I couldn't tell you. Not because I didn't want to or because I had some mental block, but because the timing just wasn't right and it would only make everything even more complicated.
Maybe someday our paths will collide again.
I love you.
~Stargirl
Wow. The time passed so quickly. It seems like nothing like that could ever happen to me again. I hate that feeling. The entire time was just amazing. There's no other word. Trust, me I've tried to find other words to describe what we had. There simply aren't any.
You were my boyfriend, best friend, everything. Sadly none of that exists any more. I wish it did. Any of it. To have that connection with you again would make everything easier for me. So why did it end? For obvious reasons of course.
I just wish you could still be my best friend. The problem with that is, best friends can trust each other. I can't trust you any more. Stupid things that happened two months ago did that to us. I hate that something so small can tear us apart... If I would've known sooner... Things would be different. We would still be best friends and you wouldn't feel like ****. I wish I could make you feel better about yourself, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do any more. It's in your hands. But I suppose it's your fault you feel like ****, anyway.
I don't mean I'm blaming you for what happened. That wouldn't be fair. I mean that if you would've told me in the first place, you would've only felt like **** for a couple days instead of a couple months. Probably more. For all I know, you still feel terrible even though I told You I'm over it. And I am.
I wasn't actually upset about what happened. That wasn't really too bad. I'm upset that you thought you couldn't trust me to still be there for you. And I'm upset because I gave you my heart and my trust, which took a long time for me to give, you know that, and you broke both of them in one swoop.
Now it's only going to be harder for me to trust guys in the future. Before I didn't really have any reason to disbelieve or be afraid of giving away my heart and my trust, and it took me almost a month and a half for me to give them to you. Now I'm afraid how long it'll take for me to trust in the future.
I guess the thing that really kills me is that you were my absolute best friend. That girl, you know which one I'm talking about, who claims to be my best friend is far too shallow to be more than an aquaintance to anyone. And you... You were there for me in so many ways whenever I needed you. When that crap happened with my sister, you were there. We weren't even dating then, but you were there for me. When I just needed someone to remind me that I mattered, you made me feel like the most important person in the world. I'm sure you'll still be there for me, but it's just not the same.
The thing that killed me the most about all of this was that I loved you, but I couldn't tell you. Not because I didn't want to or because I had some mental block, but because the timing just wasn't right and it would only make everything even more complicated.
Maybe someday our paths will collide again.
I love you.
~Stargirl
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
To someone
It's 1:10 AM. It...perturbs? me that my mind spins these wispy things when I try to fall asleep more than it does when I'm awake. I'm reminded of cotton candy - whirling and spinning ethereal fleece.
Maybe it's the quiet. The night often seems subdued to me, as if darkness softens things.
I find it odd I'm journaling to you. I don't know who you are.
Danea? A good chunk of tonight was spent remembering that afternoon in a coffee shop. Even though my mind has resigned itself to your decision, my heart holds out hope. Sitting across from you, wistfully dreaming of how idyllic it could be, asking questions of you about yourself and receiveing answers my heart could have given...but I suspect that once again I go too far.
Wendy - of course you remain the current...(my mind hits a block here. Some might say "object," but I don't wish to use that word to refer to you.) The current recipient of my infatuation? I suppose that memory of time with Danea came up because at the time I felt like I was being shown my peak of happiness. You have expanded my horizons and given me hope (awareness?) of summits I have yet to reach. You have given me many seeds I want to aid to flourishment with care - though I think the least beautiful of the sprouted plants would be a flower possessed of beauty to rival...well, I can think of few things beautiful right now that I do not associate with you (and might thus make an unillustrative comparison). I know such things can be and are found with (and in the hearts and minds of) family and other friends, but these hours strike me as well home to the stuff of dreams.
I still have a pocket heavy with seeds, but perhaps another morning. My body limits my pencil's breath again.
Love,
Eldon/Satyesu
Maybe it's the quiet. The night often seems subdued to me, as if darkness softens things.
I find it odd I'm journaling to you. I don't know who you are.
Danea? A good chunk of tonight was spent remembering that afternoon in a coffee shop. Even though my mind has resigned itself to your decision, my heart holds out hope. Sitting across from you, wistfully dreaming of how idyllic it could be, asking questions of you about yourself and receiveing answers my heart could have given...but I suspect that once again I go too far.
Wendy - of course you remain the current...(my mind hits a block here. Some might say "object," but I don't wish to use that word to refer to you.) The current recipient of my infatuation? I suppose that memory of time with Danea came up because at the time I felt like I was being shown my peak of happiness. You have expanded my horizons and given me hope (awareness?) of summits I have yet to reach. You have given me many seeds I want to aid to flourishment with care - though I think the least beautiful of the sprouted plants would be a flower possessed of beauty to rival...well, I can think of few things beautiful right now that I do not associate with you (and might thus make an unillustrative comparison). I know such things can be and are found with (and in the hearts and minds of) family and other friends, but these hours strike me as well home to the stuff of dreams.
I still have a pocket heavy with seeds, but perhaps another morning. My body limits my pencil's breath again.
Love,
Eldon/Satyesu
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
To my divine
To my divine,
As I write this inadequate letter in regards to our evergrowing - everstrong passion, I ponder the day that our eyes once again meet and the flow of compassion and lust burts from within the center of my cold heart, pumping compassion and an almost obsession-like attraction through my pulsing vains. I can only dream of what that day will bring, though I am positive that whatever comes our way will be more than satisfactory to even the up-most dignified romantic.
My passion for you burns with a cool black flame, remaining dorment within my chest until the moment our lips touch. I have never in my life loved anyone or anything as much as I love you, this I am certain of, though all else in life I am not. All I can think about is the extravagant view of your perfection. Some might say nobody is perfect, well, your not nobody. Your everything I could've ever hoped to EVER have in this lifetime, or any others for that matter.
I know that my writing is a bit off at the moment, but I'm writing this as the thoughts come to mind, no alterations, no undos. Only the passion as it leaves my soul through my words and voice. It's almost ridiculous how hard it is find to find words even minutely close to being worthy of your grace and beauty. That might sound a bit far-fetched at first, but take my word for it. It's all true. I can't possibly hope to think of a word, there simply isn't one. Perfect just doesn't cut it. You're a goddess all your own, and deserve to be treated like such. However, saying such might seem obsessive, but where does the line between love and obsession even begin? What is obsession? Who knows, I do not, that is for certain.
I love you Erica Jade, and I'm starting to think that I'm running out of things to write, or maybe that's just my body trying to fight it's way out of more typing, who knows. I've truly fallen for you, in all senses of the word. Meeting you has changed my life forever. It's almost as if my world has lost it's grasp on the orbit it once had on pain and suffering and found itself revolving around your grace. I'll say it again, and again, and continue saying it until my last breath leaves my body, and even then I will get the message across, I love you Erica Jade. I love you. Don't you ever forget that, I will always love you.
I've run out of things to write, or have I? No, it's just that I like to conserve my thoughts for later times. If I spill them all out at once, what will that leave me with? We can't have that now, can we? In this, I shall conclude this inadequate letter. It may be ill-written, but it's straight from the heart, fresh from the mind.
Forever and always, yours truly - Justin Alber
As I write this inadequate letter in regards to our evergrowing - everstrong passion, I ponder the day that our eyes once again meet and the flow of compassion and lust burts from within the center of my cold heart, pumping compassion and an almost obsession-like attraction through my pulsing vains. I can only dream of what that day will bring, though I am positive that whatever comes our way will be more than satisfactory to even the up-most dignified romantic.
My passion for you burns with a cool black flame, remaining dorment within my chest until the moment our lips touch. I have never in my life loved anyone or anything as much as I love you, this I am certain of, though all else in life I am not. All I can think about is the extravagant view of your perfection. Some might say nobody is perfect, well, your not nobody. Your everything I could've ever hoped to EVER have in this lifetime, or any others for that matter.
I know that my writing is a bit off at the moment, but I'm writing this as the thoughts come to mind, no alterations, no undos. Only the passion as it leaves my soul through my words and voice. It's almost ridiculous how hard it is find to find words even minutely close to being worthy of your grace and beauty. That might sound a bit far-fetched at first, but take my word for it. It's all true. I can't possibly hope to think of a word, there simply isn't one. Perfect just doesn't cut it. You're a goddess all your own, and deserve to be treated like such. However, saying such might seem obsessive, but where does the line between love and obsession even begin? What is obsession? Who knows, I do not, that is for certain.
I love you Erica Jade, and I'm starting to think that I'm running out of things to write, or maybe that's just my body trying to fight it's way out of more typing, who knows. I've truly fallen for you, in all senses of the word. Meeting you has changed my life forever. It's almost as if my world has lost it's grasp on the orbit it once had on pain and suffering and found itself revolving around your grace. I'll say it again, and again, and continue saying it until my last breath leaves my body, and even then I will get the message across, I love you Erica Jade. I love you. Don't you ever forget that, I will always love you.
I've run out of things to write, or have I? No, it's just that I like to conserve my thoughts for later times. If I spill them all out at once, what will that leave me with? We can't have that now, can we? In this, I shall conclude this inadequate letter. It may be ill-written, but it's straight from the heart, fresh from the mind.
Forever and always, yours truly - Justin Alber
Saturday, July 12, 2008
To Danea
I don’t know if I’ll ever send this to you. I don’t know if it is or ever will be welcome. I want to remember, though, this amazing feeling I have right now.
I’ve had a girlfriend before; it was she that made the initial offer. Looking back with the typical 20/20 hindsight, I didn’t really love her. I’ve said before that you seem to me to have a good heart and a dreamer’s mind. After talking to you today, I’m convinced. I cannot tell you how much I would love, if you’re the person I have no reason to believe you aren’t, to someday come home to an apartment and the woman of my dreams with an up-and-coming band playing in the coffee shop downstairs, and go down to listen to the music, chat with customers, and watch people pass by the window. I can think of few things that would be better. I don’t expect that, mind; I daydream about it. Maybe someday. I feel like I want to spend every waking moment with you. It’s fine if you don’t return the thoughts, but I think I’ll send this to you to try to relate how much you mean to me and how much I enjoyed spending time with you today. Again, I know this is a lot very fast, but I don’t want to commit to each other for life right now; I want to place as few limits on our relationship as we should and see where it goes. I know you believe that love is a once-in-a-lifetime commitment, but I think that is true love, and one can have many loves beforehand. With that assumption in my mind, I love you so, so much. Please feel free to read this and not respond, but I hope you appreciate it. I’m sorry to keep pestering you with this. I know you said you’re not interested in a relationship with anyone right now. I can wait, and if you ever change your mind, please let me know.
I’ve had a girlfriend before; it was she that made the initial offer. Looking back with the typical 20/20 hindsight, I didn’t really love her. I’ve said before that you seem to me to have a good heart and a dreamer’s mind. After talking to you today, I’m convinced. I cannot tell you how much I would love, if you’re the person I have no reason to believe you aren’t, to someday come home to an apartment and the woman of my dreams with an up-and-coming band playing in the coffee shop downstairs, and go down to listen to the music, chat with customers, and watch people pass by the window. I can think of few things that would be better. I don’t expect that, mind; I daydream about it. Maybe someday. I feel like I want to spend every waking moment with you. It’s fine if you don’t return the thoughts, but I think I’ll send this to you to try to relate how much you mean to me and how much I enjoyed spending time with you today. Again, I know this is a lot very fast, but I don’t want to commit to each other for life right now; I want to place as few limits on our relationship as we should and see where it goes. I know you believe that love is a once-in-a-lifetime commitment, but I think that is true love, and one can have many loves beforehand. With that assumption in my mind, I love you so, so much. Please feel free to read this and not respond, but I hope you appreciate it. I’m sorry to keep pestering you with this. I know you said you’re not interested in a relationship with anyone right now. I can wait, and if you ever change your mind, please let me know.
To Daze
Daze –
Here’s dreaming that maybe someday we’ll look at the fact that the first letter posted on this site was to you and smile at each other.
I want to thank you again (I’m not sure I can express in words how emphatically I want to) for giving my mind a run for its money as I try to follow yours in its fluttering. Every time we alight on a topic it buoys my mood higher until I reach a euphoria I find with no one else. The rush and the release of tension I feel are hard to describe in other terms. My anxieties seem to melt.
I know we are half a world apart – as I described in a mathematical analogy few people, I suspect, would receive as you did – but the affinity I feel in you through this copper and silicon makes me feel closer to you than I have been to a friend in a long time. I can and do share my tawdry musings and introspections that play profound with you, and I love to savor every nugget of intellectual fertilizer (excuse the awkward metaphor, please) I encounter with you.
It’s rare that I say something and fumble with the expression to find that the person with whom I speak already understands what I intend to mean and has thought the same thought before. In this instance, too, I hope you know what I try to describe.
I appreciate the generous helping of attention you donate to me. I trust your reason and I ask that you continue to appraise every option. You spoke to me yesterday about taking life’s boons as gifts and to not expect them, so I will hold a certain amount of thought on this until your eagerly awaited reply. I am already anticipating our next meeting of minds…I am reminded of the Sistine Chapel - Adam about to touch God.
Here’s dreaming that maybe someday we’ll look at the fact that the first letter posted on this site was to you and smile at each other.
I want to thank you again (I’m not sure I can express in words how emphatically I want to) for giving my mind a run for its money as I try to follow yours in its fluttering. Every time we alight on a topic it buoys my mood higher until I reach a euphoria I find with no one else. The rush and the release of tension I feel are hard to describe in other terms. My anxieties seem to melt.
I know we are half a world apart – as I described in a mathematical analogy few people, I suspect, would receive as you did – but the affinity I feel in you through this copper and silicon makes me feel closer to you than I have been to a friend in a long time. I can and do share my tawdry musings and introspections that play profound with you, and I love to savor every nugget of intellectual fertilizer (excuse the awkward metaphor, please) I encounter with you.
It’s rare that I say something and fumble with the expression to find that the person with whom I speak already understands what I intend to mean and has thought the same thought before. In this instance, too, I hope you know what I try to describe.
I appreciate the generous helping of attention you donate to me. I trust your reason and I ask that you continue to appraise every option. You spoke to me yesterday about taking life’s boons as gifts and to not expect them, so I will hold a certain amount of thought on this until your eagerly awaited reply. I am already anticipating our next meeting of minds…I am reminded of the Sistine Chapel - Adam about to touch God.
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