An Open Letter to the “D”.


There never seems to be enough time to say what I need to say and when I do it always comes out wrong.  So I’m writing it here, knowing (from your quote last Friday) that you do, at least, sometimes still read the blog.  Maybe you’ll see this.  Maybe you won’t.  I think I prefer it that way.

I do not fully understand what happened in those days before your homecoming.  I know that whatever happened is not my fault, and that it is a product of events that transpired long before you walked into my life.  I know that whatever battles you still fight as a result of those things are yours to contend with and that there is absolutely nothing that I can do, save for what I am already doing, to make that any easier for you.  I cannot fight for you, I cannot help you unless you want me to.  I did not reach out because I did not know whether you would want me to.  I do not want to smother you.  I do not want to impede what you have to do in order to allow yourself to heal.

I wanted so much to join you, but because you do not seem to want me to, I left you alone.  Maybe that wasn’t the best tactic.  And that’s why I reached out and invited you to do something last Friday.  And it’s why on Friday I asked you to come watch those Dexter episodes and have dinner on Monday.  But I can only extend myself so much.  You don’t have to meet me halfway right now, but I do need you to meet me at least part of the way.

I cannot fix what is broken.  It’s not my fight.  But I can be here for you.  The way I have always been.  You are silent now, where you used to talk to me every day.  I miss you.  I miss what we had.  But I understand that this is the way it has to be.  You have to fix yourself.  I get that.  And we’ll take it slowly while you do.

I do not pretend to be the expert on everything.  But I do know what love is.  I know that love does not try to hurt anyone.  Love cannot hurt anyone.   It is not angry.  Someone that truly loved you would let you go.  Someone that truly loved you would, at least, let you be happy.  They would want that for you.  And they would not continually come back to haunt you, to torture you, to play games of emotional warfare.  I have never done that with you, or with anyone else, and I am not going to.  Love doesn’t hurt people.  People hurt people.  We both know who I am talking about here, and I want you to think about this:

After a weekend on a binge, you decided to stop drinking.  I told you then that I wanted you to be whole, and I told you I wanted all of you.  I meant it then.  I’m saying that again now.  I do want you to be whole.  You deserve to be whole, in every essence of the word.  But more than that, I want you to be happy.  Out of all of the people I have ever known, you deserve that the most.  I believed that I could make you happy.  I still believe that I can make you happy.  But you have to be ready to let yourself be happy.  I think you are getting there.

You aren’t looking for anyone else, you said.  I am not either.  And the ones that show up, I simply do not want.  There were two others.  One was from my past – and while it would have been easy to run back to that, I knew (and know even better now) that after having what I’ve had with you, I could not go back to someone who does not appreciate me for who I really am.  I could not be with someone who tries to change me.  The other is new.  He’s nice enough, but I can think of a hundred reasons why I do not want to be with him either.   I did another housecleaning last week, like the one I did when you and I met.  And with all of the other garbage, I threw those two out as well.  One went easily.  The other may fight a little… but in the end he will realize that there’s no chance.  I simply am not interested.

Because I meant what I said… I don’t want to see anyone else.   I know what I want, I want you, I want the D******.  I have never laughed so much or so hard with anyone else the way that I do when we are together (and even when we’re not).  I have never felt so comfortable with another human being so quickly in my life.  I told you on Friday that I believed that we could have done this, that it would have been easy.  I still believe that.  There is something here.  I know it.  So do you, I can tell.

I told you, when things began to fall apart, that I am here.  I meant that.  I am right here.  I am caring for your things as they arrive with the same dedication that I employed when you were away (though those two boxes you sent from before have still not gotten here).  My feelings for you have not changed.  And I am holding on, for the time being, because optimism, and my voices, tell me that I should.

You have not asked me to wait.  You have not told me to move forward, either.  You have only said, dejectedly almost, that you knew I would see others before telling me you weren’t looking for anyone else.

I do not know what to do.  But I remember, in those situations when I would ask you, you would always tell me to “do what feels right.”  It does not feel right to move on.  I do not want to move on.  And so, for the time being, I am waiting.  At least for awhile.  Partially because right now, with your boot-prints so fresh in my memory, I am not fit for anyone else.  But mostly because I believe in us, and moreso, I believe in you.

If you want me, though, I need you to act like it.  That does not mean I need you to run over here right this minute, but, you know as well as I do, the phone works both ways.  The Gchat works both ways.  I am waiting because I know what you CAN be, I had it for five months despite the massive distance, and I saw it for a few hours on Friday.  I believe that it is still there, even if you are afraid of it.

Truth be told, I, too, am afraid of it.  I am afraid of you.  I am afraid of someone who can possess me so completely that I am spoiled for anyone else.  But while I am afraid, I am also mesmerized.  For once in my life I am not looking over the fence.  I am in my own backyard, and while the grass may be dry and brittle right now, I have faith that it could be green again if we want it to be.  It’s the Law of Attraction, the “fake it till you make it” concept.  I believe that it can work, and I hope to science that I am not wrong.  I’m kind of in a vulnerable spot here.

Because things are so up in the air right now with my aunt, I canceled my vacation.  Unless something with her changes, I will be here before you leave.  I would like to see you before you go.  I would like to know, for certain, that there is something, however small, worth waiting for.  But I cannot reach out anymore, I have done that enough.  I will carry you, I will hold your hand, I will do whatever you need me to do, but I cannot do all the work.  I want you.  But I need you to want me back.  And I need you to show me that you do.  I have reached out twice.  Now it is your turn.

And so, unless you tell me otherwise, at least for the summer, I am here.  Skype is online again.  My phone is working.  Gchat is always available.  And when you are in town, if you want me, you can find me.  For the summer, these avenues are yours.  For the summer, I am waiting, occupying my time with my projects, taking it easy, trying to heal in my own way.

Once the summer is over, I’ll reevaluate.




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