dear r.

dear r., here is a letter that you deserve. here are some sentences that i’ve tied together with the red string of fate from the Chinese legend and i hope they will be enough. contrary to belief, i believe in soul mates. i belief that love can make everyday life magic but you shouldn’t depend on a person for that. i know that the sentences in some of your letters run through my head and i let some of your words come off of my lips daily. to clarify this in an apology and a searching explanation. i am sorry for the times i have ranted and let my words spill over each other in a torment. i consider myself a person who has so many words but only a few that really matter. truly, i think that you perhaps know a few of those words, and are closer to finding out who i am than even me myself. to counter i belief that i know you. i know your favorite is a stereotypical deep blue and your love for aviator sunglasses is unrivaled. i know that you will maybe never read this and our start with pitter off until only a few letters are left of our breaching conversations. so i apologize that my letters haven’t formed into tidy rows that are sent to you. to be frank, i haven’t yet discovered what words to say. i want to ask you where the wind comes from and you and i will both probably change the discussion to the Baltic coast where we both dream or owning cottages. i loathe the word sorry with a passion and so i will simply say that i haven’t yet found the words that are fragile and long enough to describe our relationship and the distance. if ever there a day comes where i find such words then maybe this post won’t be shelved with all the others. maybe r, we have a chance. but maybe isn’t a word that helps my fingers write to you and as the fifth day comes to an end i wonder. i wonder if have missed me. my crazy words and wild stories. i think why i pull away is that i hope that people notice. few people hardly ever do. fewer still remark upon it. i know you have noticed because you can’t be a constant part of a person’s daily life for over a month and not miss them. while the denial comes from the mouth of the brain and the heart tell a different story altogether. as a writer i can try and make it sound poetic. how i pull away and see who will come after me. comparing me to an ocean now isn’t enough. an ocean always returns but not so much with me. for an example, now r, i find myself drifting. the shadows on the wall and the lactose-free milk on my tongue mingle into nothingness as my fingers itch and i apply lip balm. to a stranger, i would appear that i am thinking but in reality, it is the absence of thought. this nothing has lasted for days now. i could compare my life to a spider web. except i am not the spider and i often spend my days wondering who is. the spider i compare to people. yet they are always different and some days they seem more like flies, the helpless prey like myself. as of tonight the spider of society. sitting on it’s web of sticky lies that have caught so many innocent and coverted all the rest. i apologize r, because it seems like when i finally sit down to write to you the words come out fleetingly slow but in great number. so while some might assume you will skip a few lines and summarize this, we both know it is not true. you read every one of my words as a caress and that is why i almost afriad to write to you. i ponder if my words are strong enough to be taken off the page and then fall from your mouth. but i will just have to trust like i do all my fairytales. before i go and finish the letter by apologizing once more, i have something else to say: don’t stay with me if i don’t make you happy. because while i have learned to take happiness from simple things, like blue early morning skies and freckled fingers, you have not learned this. and i am not worth sacrficing happiness for.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s