A Love Letter

I found this today while looking for something completely different. And while this is old non-fiction, I have a hard time posting it, as it still makes me cry. And whether that is because of the writing or the moment I'm not sure. So here, I post something extremely personal to the world in hopes of releasing the moment from within me.

A Love Letter
Today is the first time I’ve ever cried. That is, it’s the first time my heart has been broken. Sure I’ve had relationships which I’ve cared for the other quite deeply. However, my heart shattered—rock through a window—with an email.

I’m not going to give you all the back story. Just know that we are locked in a perpetual state of almost. I thought that we moved into finally but his work intervened and took us back to almost. There was a week of communication darkness. I had to fill in the blanks with justifications. He’s busy, working hard. New York time is different than California time. Not just in time zones but New York has its own center of gravity which makes the universe move quicker when inside. All you can do to survive is to hold on.

I watched as my heart it started the spaghettification process. Pieces pulled painfully as one week turned to two. An email confirming my justifications, yet promises in the not so far future. He’ll be in town for the weekend. I offer up myself. I don’t mind forgoing my trip to San Francisco if I can spend it with him. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for the stars to align letting us develop from mentor and friend into committed relationship.

He wants me to go to San Francisco. “A well needed rest for you,” he says. A hairline fracture splintered in my heart. I do as he suggests, I always do.

It’s Monday and back to New York he goes. Transmissions garbled. Communication lost. All systems dark and another week slipped by. I know he reads my emails but I’ve never wanted to be ‘that’ girl. That girl, which emails every day, sometimes twice a day to show affection. It reads desperate, even if that’s how I feel, I don’t. He doesn’t need my ego stroking. However, I do email conveying my support of what he’s doing. In the long run it will be good for me too. I show that I’m functioning well without him, as I know it would make him proud. Another week of darkness passes. I’m dangling precariously on a mental chasm trying to figure out what to do. His name pops into my phone, a new email. He’s in London.

He explains away his absence, which is perfectly understandable. However, the third sentence confirms my fear. “I think I need to focus on this now, if I spend the next few months…I have really set everything in motion for what I have always wanted.” Tears well up, “I am sorry this was not what I had planned for us, I had great plans.” So did I. “Things shifted a bit, I cannot ask you to wait.”

The letter goes on; it is a magnificent ‘I love you but…’ letter. Tears, which I do not show to anyone, flow freely. I didn’t think words could hurt that much.

I tell him I’ve been seeing someone. A half truth, I don’t think there is a man in the world that can make me feel as good as he did. But I wanted my words to hurt too. Words, at this point, are all I have. But he sees through the thinly veiled attempt. He knows it’s not true. And I confess that no matter who I am with, I will always want him.

Essay: Falling out of like

There are times in everyone’s life when they have to face the hard fast truth; they are no longer in love with someone. However, before we -- as humans -- hit that wall. Before we realize all the pain we’ve gone through outweighs the bond that ties us. We fall out of like.

It’s not something as simple as you wake up and realize the person sitting next to you is a moron. Their mannerisms irk you beyond belief and there is no way you could love this person. No; if only we could spare our hearts with something as simple as that. Instead we fight; we fight for days on end. Sometimes a month will go by and you won’t acknowledge the person that shares the most intimate spaces with you. It’s not a physical space, as most might think – it’s a space that is only reached through talking. And this-–well--this is where we start to fall out of like with someone.

It’s a slow becoming. Different from when we fall in like with someone. When we fall in like: it’s as if all our cares fade into a seemingly bottomless void of hope. While that may sound ineffective this is what happens. That hole inside our soul begins to fill with all our worries, coated nicely with thin layer of trust. Eventually that hole fills. Trust established. Hope confirmed. Intentions sealed. We are no longer in like. We are in love.

However when reversing that process, we constantly fight with ourselves. Our inner demons take perch just out of sight. They stay far enough to be out of mind, but ready to swoop in for the kill. Ready at any moment to land on that nicely, tucked away heart, and peck through all the armor we try to coat it with. We start thinking about how he or she never talks to me about --- fill in the blank. Everyone’s different; everyone has their own something that they wish they could speak more freely about. For me, it was that he never spoke to me as a person. It was always about my accomplishments, the talent that he saw never who I am -- outside of those specific lists. Our conversation filled with, what are you going to do next? Have you called that artist you met last week? When do you expect projects X, Y, & Z to be done? In these moments all I wanted; all that I needed in order to keep those demons at bay was a simple question. How are you doing?

Yes, I know every man reading this just rolled their eyes shook their head and uttered, ‘feelings.’ However, looking through your eyes I’m sure there are times when all you wished your partner would do: is summed up by this question. Will you rub my feet? While men and women are wired differently, the road leading to the fall of like is the same. Questions we can’t ask. Communication we can’t follow.

In my case it was that I couldn’t express what I needed and he couldn’t see I was drowning. My demons kept me from explaining that it was too much. Everything was too much. However, I didn’t want him to see me as weak. I didn’t want him to think I was a lesser woman because his mind made me out to be larger than life so I worked harder becoming more exhausted with the situation. I watch as those figurative demons circle. I submit more to him thinking he will see this as a call for help and yet – nothing. A heart: fully exposed, open and waiting for justification to stay in the relationship. Sadly -- we as humans – are the most open before the end.

This falling out of like, can take months. For some it may take years and you know it is happening as it continues. More and more things start to build up because of it. Communication breaks down further as those demons chew on the fleshy bits of your heart. The things that made you fall in love with them in the first place. The idiosyncrasies which drew you in – a snort perhaps when they laugh – eaten from your heart, now it’s just a flaw you cannot look past. Until finally one day you wake up and realize the person sleeping in the bed next you is a stranger. The void’s trust broken and spilling forth all those worries you thought so nicely bound. You are no longer in like with them. You are no longer in love with them. You are no longer in a relationship with them.


© 2010 Jeannie Hart

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Essay: family antics

I've been working hard on my Novel this week hence no updates. I have several prompts to catch up on next week. I have not forgotten about you twitter prompts! I did however, want to post this bit of fiction, bit of reality, bit of history that inspired me. The prompt came from WritingFix.com Don't forget to follow me on Twitter if you like my writing or even just my antics. :D Enjoy!

Family Antics

There were noises coming from the next room. Jessica looked at me, her blonde hair bouncing as her head swiveled towards me. We heard footsteps running down the hall and we both knew something was going on. She opened her bedroom door where we see my brother Michael trying to sneak into her brother Jason’s room. He paused, looked at us, looked down the hall and back to us. “You can’t tell anyone.” He said as his eyes narrowed. I looked at Jessica and smiled, I knew this was going to be fun.

“Promise,” we said in unison. He motioned for us to follow. We creped down the short hallway; our footsteps masked by the carpet below. Michael looked back and forth making sure that there were no parents around. I was in awe; my older brother was including me in one of his escapades. There, at the age of twelve I knew this was going to be brilliant, or extremely stupid. He slid behind the door, his hand held up for us to wait. Eventually it motioned for us to follow and follow we did.

“We have to get this mattress out the window.” Michael said as he opened the standard size, 60’s home window. Jessica and I looked at each other confused but unquestioning as we headed to the end of the twin bed. Stripped of all the garments it was naked and awkward, springs poked upward as we angled it towards the window. Jonathan, Jessica’s other brother popped up just outside. Michael grinned, “where’s Barbara?”

“She’s in the garage,” Jonathan looked all around making sure the coast was clear. “She won’t be there for long. She’s folding.” Michael turned to Jessica and me then motioned for us to push. The old used mattress folded easily in half as we pushed it through the window. It snagged midway through. Michael panicked as he heard the garage door slam shut. Barbra was in the house.

“Jeannie, you need to keep her out.” I shook my head; this was not in the contract. I was not the patsy. “Do it, trust me.” The famous words that every child hears before something terrible is about to happen. I nodded my head and snuck out the door.

“Barbara, I’m hungry.” I said in hopes she would stay in the kitchen while my brother and Jessica got the mattress through the window.

“Would you like me to make you a sandwich,” Jessica’s mom said as I stood blocking her way out. I nodded once more and she started to pull seemingly random items from the cupboards. I heard a bang from the backroom; looked back hoping that was the last of it. Barbara paused, shook her head and continued with the knife. I saw Jessica’s head pop out of the last bedroom door on the left. Her hand waved vigorously to get my attention. My eyes shifted and she mouthed the words ‘come on’. I nodded my head in acknowledgment.

“On second thought, maybe I should wait until dinner.” I said as I run out of the kitchen not waiting for her response.

“Jeannie you will not believe what’s about to happen.” Jessica spouted as excited as a puppy waiting for a new owner. Michael stood outside the window as we closed the door behind us.

“Come on. Out the window if you want to watch.” He said as we jumped up on the desk. It was positioned perfectly for us to hop out. There in the expansive back yard were three twin mattresses on top of each other. I looked at Jessica, she looked at me and we both looked up. Jason--her oldest brother--sat on a bike; on the roof. I was right. This was going to brilliant.

© 2010 Jeannie Hart

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