November 17, 2016 § Leave a comment
(To be read in conjunction with September 2016: Letters to a lover who I will leave soon)
John: I know you’ll be fine without me. Thing is, I can never be fine without you. It’s difficult. It’s somehow…I need you more than you need me. And I’m not saying this to point out a flaw or an excess. It is what it is. I have made up my mind about going away by month-end. I wanted to leave a proper goodbye because I know you’d want one. You’d be asking questions and if I I’m still here I’d just be dodging them. Allow me this last act of cowardice. I don’t have answers yet.
Gemma: I shouldn’t compare, no. But here, indulge me. Lenny thinks I’m fond of him, and I am. He is fond of me as well, I know this for sure. I asked him yesterday about his feelings for me, the way you ask a child if he likes a toy, and he lit up. I’m telling you, it was beautiful the way he answered with his eyes. I can’t bear to leave this sweet boy. Is that it? You were so brave in leaving me like that, because you felt my affection was not enough to make you stay?
November 2016 (unfinished): Letters to someone I left ages ago
John: Once you take a new lover, you are assaulted by newness. The smells are what take you by surprise most of all. I’ve attempted too many times to forget your morning scent. Or the way you smell on a rainy day. What lingers in the car after you’ve hurried out after a fight. See, this girl I’ve been with for half a year, her dinner scent still jars me. Annoys me? You do have a dinner scent. If I can describe it, I would’ve recreated it a long time ago so I wouldn’t have to pine for you like this.
October 3, 2016 § Leave a comment
You’d be fine without me, yes? I feel like we’re in a movie and it’s about to end. Realizations are being made but also new discoveries are surfacing. I’m racing against time trying to get to know this new you. I’m falling in love all over again. I don’t want to leave. But I have to. End scene. Fade to black.
July 31, 2016 § Leave a comment
How comforting it is to know a person so well, that even though there may be changes in each of your lives, big or small–but those that are especially big–like adulthood, that slow, painful ascent to knowing more and feeling less, then that confusing stage of feeling more and knowing less, you know the one…that person you know so well still looks at you like he did all those years ago, and you are comforted. And even if you write in ellipsis and broken sentences and a whole lot of “and’s,” he understands and says “Rough day?”
Rest of the entries here.