Thursday, December 29, 2016

Take My Hand Again, Please. (and soon)

Little sweetheart, the year is drawing to a close and - although I don't know how it could ever be really better or that I even have an expectation for it to be otherwise - I'm feeling particularly lost. I'm such a creature of obsession. 

It can be handy, even wonderful, when it's directed at something good like you (and all the better for having you return all that crazy love in kind, if not doublefold - it's why we were made for each other, the way we match mutually emotional-depths.) But it's also why I don't drink and have to very assiduously uncouple myself from the sea-wreck rocks of other habitually unhealthy behaviors. I'm lonely but I don't know what to do about it. No one is you. There's not much for me, even when I try.

I need to find a way to be, my little sweetheart. I don't want this life without you. But I know I'm not meant to harm myself or bring my it to an end by my own hand. I have to wait until you and God call me if I want to return to your side. Danya said if I did take my own life that I would never find you. Even she wasn't able to say just exactly what she meant by that but still it has suck very resonantly with me. I must wait. But I don't know what to do with myself, my love. I really don't.

Today, as I have been for a little more than a week, I am with your parents. I'm staying in the room next to yours. Often when I'm here, your Mom puts me up in your room but just now she's giving it a little make over. One of the key pieces is a big photographic print I gave her for Christmas of Clauia Courbet that looks exactly like you. She's dressed as a harlequin and it's a still from an old black and white movie called "Tonight Is Ours" (1933). I saw the photo in a colorized version online and investigated until I found it. Another case of obsessive behaviour but put good use this time. These are actually good moments. I feel close to you.

The other night, your mom and I were watching a show on HBO and a song came on that you first played for me - Bruce Springteen's "Secret Garden". It made my cry just as it made me cry at the time I first heard it in the car with you and you smiled and reached over and took my hand.

Little sweetheart, won't you take my hand again, even now? The year is coming to a close and I can't imagine another new one without you. I know the rules - I have to wait. But please, my love, don't make me wait much longer. Love you forever and with all my heart and soul.

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