10/15/10
Dear Gabriel,
Thank you for listening to me this evening. I hope your mom is okay – she’s not fooling anyone – she’s having a devil of a time, though you being around her helps. I am pretty proud of myself that I can encourage you to go spend time with her and not be lonely about it. It shows progress on my end – and I get to share you, which shows you ( I hope) that I’m ready to at least be a good friend, and a true one. If there is anything I can do, including keep my distance so she can get used to the idea of “losing” you, let me know. I hope she knows that I care about her and am aware of her loss as much as I can be, and, if nothing else, that I love her dearly for rearing such a terrific son.
I’ll have to warn you, my style of processing is through talking… writing – words, essentially. So if my ideas are overwhelming to you, please save this letter for another day, or let me know that I’m overwhelming you. I’m sort of feeling out how much of my mind I can share before it becomes uncomfortable for you (not that the goal is to make you uncomfortable, but that I’m not aware that I’ve made you uncomfortable to begin with – at least until I hope you’ve told me). It wasn’t until I had been married for nearly 5 years that I discovered the importance of friends… and that no matter how much two people are dedicated to each other or love each other’s company, dumping (if that is how you view this) on the other person exclusively ends up being enormously taxing. So, if this turns out to be a dump – all hot, slick, and steamy (eww) – then, by all means, let me know straightaway.
That being said, if you’re still reading, here are my thoughts tonight:
I’ve got tons to think about with you and me, and my mind is screaming to know in concrete and measurable terms how you feel about me right now and tomorrow. “No matter,” I tell my racing brain, “this thing between us is only half intellectual.” The other half is the heart, and my heart tells me that I’m safe, so long as I don’t declare myself so much that I get resentful that you haven’t declared yourself back in a moment of intense and timeless devotion (which even my intellect doesn’t approve of, as it is highly unrealistic and extraordinarily premature – though, in all my mortal vulnerability, I have to admit that it would be so very nice to hear. Heh, here comes my love for truth that reminds me pointedly that if I hear it, then it had better be True. THANK HEAVEN this is only half intellectual), and as long as I quit thinking about the future long enough to savor the present, I’m always going to be okay.
The present is marvelous, wonderful, amazing, and magical. I feel so appreciated, so adored, so cared for, so safe and protected, so softly nestled in your emotional embrace, that it’s not nearly as difficult to let go of tomorrow as it could be. I feel your fingertips on my back, your kiss on my hair, your hands on my face, the tender look in your eyes… so much of what you communicate is through touch – I’m noticing that. “So what if it’s not in words?” my heart says. “Is that a problem?”
The mind wants structure, planning, future, future, future, future, and is prepared to put up a fight. I’m not too worried, though. The heart will win, I know it will. The heart is wiser, older, more patient, far smarter (to the mind’s utter disbelief sometimes) and has a longer attention span than the puppy-like mind. So, with your gentle voice, your attention, your laughing at my jokes for Pete’s sake, your words that tell me how happy you are right NOW, what more can a girl ask for?
I am always having to take my own advice (go figure) and just take it one day at a time – and your example of this principle in action is a fantastic help.
You and I are right where we need to be, right?
So thank you for today, and please forgive my internal conflict. It will rage on for a time, but eventually subside once I’ve trusted you, given you space, and let your actions speak for themselves. So much of me is words, but words (and words pertaining to the future – also known as promises) can be so empty sometimes. It’s hard for me, to only pay attention to the present, but you have surprised me, delighted me, and cared for me thus far, in your own quiet way, and I am so very thankful for that. Besides, I’m as stubborn as hell, and I absolutely loathe lying, so I’ll be damned if I’m going to make a liar out of myself when I say I love you by not letting you breathe and swim and live and come to me as you are ready.
So, have a good weekend, and perhaps I will be delighted with an answering email. I can’t wait for Monday. It’s been a few months since I got up at 6:30am, but it will be good for me.
Goodnight gentle fish, Dreamkeeper, adrenalin junkie, crazy UFO hunter, and all that jazz.
See you in a few days,
Violet
© 2010