Dear _,
There's something that I'd really Like to say,
though I don't know how to start,
or if I even should.
In Fact, if we're being honest,
objectively I probably shouldn't;
because I'm worried it might
come off the wrong way;
or worse yet, get misinterpreted,
as something much more than it is-
simply a sentiment to share,
offered unconditionally,
as bookend to prop up a story
that we've shelved.
I AM going to say it,
so please pardon my intrusion.
I know that you need respite
from entangled inclusion in my
desperate emotionally confused conclusion
that a lifetime of romantic love could be hiding
just beyond the horizon,
and it's so near I can nearly taste
it but it's just out of reach.
So if you can wait for a moment,
just a minute,
or two,
before you walk away;
(maybe a day at the most,
i just need time hope)
I could run by the far side of the nearest horizon to see if it is
... and I'll bring as much
as I can possibly carry
to prove that it's there
and there's plenty to share...
on my way back home, to you.
(not my home obviously,
I'm just an wandering fool
who keeps falling in love
with anyone who can prove
that they feel for me
what i feel for them too.
Alas! It is true
you never did say
that you felt this same way
but thats fine
in my mind
i feel confident you
will eventually see I've got enough love for two!
See, my cup runneth over;
the well spring is new.
It flows as if endless
and collects in a pool
at the corner of my eyes
right on cue
when i think about living my life next to you.
So drink deep from this well
from which i am willing to share,
perhaps unsustainable as it may be
in the end.)
But if you can't ...
(and I know that you can't,
I heard you and believed you
but I can't just let loose
without at least trying
to hold on a few
extra moments to gaze
and admire your effortless beauty and poise
and your strength,
before inevitably the reigns are let go
and the horse I rode in on is finally released)
... i understand
and I can easily see that;
and furthermore
you were nothing if not perfectly clear
every step of the way
that this day would appear.
you already knew
you could not commit,
and i was fine with it then,
so I have to admit
that since nothing has change
in the tiny little bit
of time intervening;
that there is no reason for me to expect
that the terms are now different
or less circumspect
So I want you to know
there're no hurt or hard feelings
On my side of the street.
it was delightful to meet you
and spend the wintery-est storm,
the budding early spring
Snuggled and warm in your bed
and your orbit
circling around such a Beautiful view.
I see that you need to recover and reset,
and respond to the still recent personal upheaval
beset upon you by your last lover'sleaving;
that you need time to recenter
and refocus your vision
on your family, and steady yourself
both for them, and for you.
But Forgive me for how
this might sound coming out
- I do not Intend for it to come off rude,
to inspire regret
or review
of the decision you made -
but before I place the ball squarely back in your court,
and walk away from the dreams
I've dreamed of you,
I'd like you to know:
if you do come around,
and ultimately decide
you might like to try me
(and us) again in the future;
I'm open to the opportunity
and just waiting for you.
Obviously I can't know
what is coming down the line,
but if I'm here and still free,
I'll still be hoping to see
you coming back to me.
It might sound suspicious from a man
who appears as I do,
but I swear to you,
I mean what I'm saying,
and I hope you'll believe.
I'm not typically a man
of great plans or delusions
who sees his own future
and wishes it to be.
I've rarely envisioned a life for myself
that is calm and quiet and settled well down. However, with you,
from the moment we met,
I've been prone to romantic fantasies
And daydream of a life
made simple and steady and profound
by the sure hand of a woman
and A family of my own
and a home, (Not alone!)
with the laughter and noise of children at play,
and the comfort of knowing it will be there,
to stay.
Before -
I only ever dreamed of myself,
adrift on the sea, crashing
head-long into oncoming waves,
pointed towards god know where.
Far from land and from people;
solitary,
silent and weathered;
cracked like tough leather
tanned by the sun,
the salt air, and the suffering;
near starving and dehydrated,
quietly desiccating
On the deck of a ship at the helm
sailing endlessly off into
sea foam and brine
splashing up into view
with every sine-oscillating
rise and fall and repeat;
glad to be free
from the people I left
to watch from their widows walk
for the return of wayward man,
longing for their love, long lost to discovery, danger, distraction, and despondency.
Yet now, I've been given a beatific vision
of this life far less likely to be my destiny.
An adventure I never had fully considered;
at least, not with hope of it coming to be.
Perhaps once,
in some barren despairing moment
a half-hearted revery of a wife
and wedding and progeny befell me,
in madness, to lift from me some
unnamed uncanny sadness,
but never without the caveat emptor
of failing spectacularly,
or the derision of knowing
it wasn't for me;
... and this time I'm reminded
by one who knows me well-better than me
- who has suffered my love and still lives to tell - of my tendencies toward boredom
and desperation,
and selfishness of pretending that I can be still, when I know that I can't,
never could and never will.
When I asked her if I should tell you all this,
in response, She simply stated
(in no uncertain terms)
I should never be careless and wonton
with another good heart
just because I've been lonely
enough to promise anything,
even the impossible,
especially if it's impossible for me
to ready myself for the necessary drone
of a daily routine,
and of the imbecile's lust I constantly carry
for an easy end to ennui...
And all of a sudden
that tender pool breaks loose
and becomes a great river
and rushes right through
like a flash flood rising unexpectedly soon.
"Hell it just started raining.
It couldn't have been more than an hour or two.
How did this much destruction
come barreling through?
It was just ankle deep not ten minutes ago,
maybe fifteen, but ****,
how the hell did it already rise to the roof?"
Once water gets into the attic
you call it a wash and try not to watch
as the house starts to move
with the current,
downstream
a piece or two at a time
'til it finally lets go of its roost
on that hastily laid foundation you built
and you KNEW
you half-assed it,
its what you do:
you cut corners, take shortcuts,
and skip steps just to prove
that your smarter than everyone else in room
or the world or the nuthouse
or whoever it is you are trying to impress
with your witty repartee
and you smart-*** worldview
while you **** up the task
that they asked you to do.
Now look what you've done,
you stupid old fool,
you weren't paying enough ******* attention
while you were working on something
you don't know how to do.
Well you better get started on trying to fix it,
you know it might not still have all the pieces;
or worse yet, you'll finish
putting it back together
with what now seems
like more than you started with.
****** man, your seriously ******* this pooch!
Sometimes you can manage to salvage some bits
you can put back together
with whatever sticky goo that you happen to use.
(I like duct tape and super glue
but epoxy will do
even good old white Elmer's can prove
priceless in a pinch,
when you need it to stick quick,
if you got nothing to lose.
it's called field expedient,
when you use what you have on hand nearby
and you don't waste any time
trying to find the perfect solution,
you just stitch a quick fix to get you through
until you have enough time
to go back and re-fix it
with the right parts and knowledge
and a proper set of tools.)
Sometimes you can shape
those scraps
into whatever gaps
or holes ultimately show through
when you do finally manage
to get something done,
and have something to show
for all your foibles.
Sometimes they'll stretch a bit further than usual,
sometimes you gotta reshape the whole profile
and shave a bit here and there to remove
the evidence you ****** it up
in the first place
to keep up the ruse
that you knew what you were doin
when you told em you knew,
despite not having any ******* clue what to do.
Fake it til you make it
only works if you make it,
otherwise your just faking
your whole way on through.
And as you spiral around
outing fires you literally lit
and then wandered away from,
you often get lost and confused and forget
why you changed venue
and what you were going to do -
so you're just vacantly searching
a burning house for clues
'til you get where you first had the thought
to move for whatever unknown reason
and then you remember
in flash as you enter the room
and re-see the trigger that set you in motion
but that summarily refused
to remain in your mind
more than a step or two;
so as soon as you walk through a threshold
its gone
like a ghost that can only haunt one certain room.
As you relight the fuse
on the sparkler that you
stupidly chose to use
as a torch to light your way
around the maze-like encampment
you constantly have to maneuver through
because you seem to bring it with you
wherever you go
whether you intend to or not,
and there's not a whole heck of lot you can do.
So instead making
these conflicting things a matter to consider
when thinking of me,
I've composed this letter to you
and now I'll seal it and send it to oblivion,
free of the burden of bearing
my lovelorn palpitations uncertainly felt
but certainly in need of a longer gestation
in the pit of my stomach
to see if I can stomach
the simplicity,
and the shattering specter of losing it all
even if I did give my best efforts
and try to do the good life honestly.
So I bid you farewell,
and bon voyage to me.
I hope you remember me well
someday long from now and think
back on our time together
ever fondly.
I know it was short
but for me that means more
it makes everything stand out
more poignantly.
Kind regards and true love,
though I never confessed that
and revealed the true nature of my feelings
to you - fortunately.
Smiles, Best wishes,
And lotsa hugs and kisses,
Love,
Yours Truly, (for now)
(but not later, not anymore)
(Nevermind, never say never)
(Yours forever)
(And a day)
Ps. This message is set for combustion
as soon as I finish rambling aimlessly.
Envisioned: 3/21/25 10pm
Composed: 3/22/25 6-10am
Revised: 3/24/25 12-4am
Published: 3/24/25 4:03am
Edited: 3/25/25 2:30-4:30
Destroyed: pending...
Sometimes a letter is much better left unread.
Make it a poem; Don't make it her problem.
She doesn't need this worthless ****.
She needed space.
and I just hate to be told I can't have something want
