My dearest Professora, how I wish to hold your face in my hands, to be able to embrace you in a state of joy and bliss once again. I am here in Southern Oregon, at the end of my own Applegate trail. I came overland from Colorado, the land of your birth. I walked the lands that you walked, saw the sights that you 3might of once seen. I courted a woman who, I saw in my heart, wished to be redeemed and in my own turn, I wished to be loved, wished for her to be like you. I brought into our lives all the things we once shared and none took us to those old places. Or rather, when I saw that she wasn't you, I shelved them. She did ask, once or twice, where the book club went to, or how come we put up the backgammon board, or why I didn't write about us any more on Accumulate Man.
Because. She. Wasn't. You.
In her own way she was a muse, but one in reverse. Instead of being the library muse that inspired me to greatness and was proud of my achievements, she ended up being peevish and petty about the gains I made. Instead of us having to dodge a standoffish and less than attentive partner, I had to deal face to face with a crazed man who was over the top about not letting go. Instead of holding down a home tghat I loved I found it impossible to stay and love the woman in place at the same time. We had no choice but to leave and where of all places did we land but Colorado. It could have been worse, we almost ended up in Seattle.
So, I found that no matter what I did I could not cajole or please or help make do something that was never meant to be. I found that my family and friends were not valued, not in the same way that hers were. I discovered that my mind and work and treasures were not really well thought as much as tolerated. Instead of loving each other in a day to day fashion, I found myself fighting a rear guard action for years, all the time saying, yes, this can work, yes, we can make this happen. All I wanted was a shared emotional connection. All I wished for was a small lot of euphoria.
I left to the coast again, this time to be a children's librarian in a town that I lived in 30 years before. But in all truth, I left to save first myself, the relationship and my career second. I came here to little town because I was exhausted emotionally. That is what happens when you deal with vampires and con artists, thieves and pretenders. They take all and give nothing back. They fill their own empty souls with the light that others share so willingly, so happily, given without pretense or guile. I landed here, took on a small space with the idea that it was temporary. Yet, here I am, in the same little space, two years later. Thank god.
I found that what I need now is not too much different than what I have always needed, and that is an emotional kind of loyalty, one that is rare, but not impossible to find. I always felt that we shared was that kind of connection and that is why, I suppose, I keep looking for it, thinking that if I am lucky, I can find it again. I needed to know, and have figured out, that what we shared was unique and can never be duplicated. There may be another kind of love that might possibly sustain me, but I need time to finally rest and see what it was exactly that we shared, so I can let that one rest and be appreciated, before I can finally see fit to let it go.
What I have discovered, among other things, is that I am demisexual. That is, I can't love unless there is some kind of emotional connection going on. I suppose, after all those years of doling out unconditional love to my kids, that when we found each other, when we clicked from the start, that love was not even there at the top of the list of things that I wanted to share with you. We were fun from the start. We liked each other and fell into love, the way that puppies fall into each other in a bed on their way to sleep.
Now, I just want more than anything, than to ask for your forgiveness. I wish for an understanding and a sort of friendship that comes from time spent behind the bars of a rough kind of travel, the kind where the boots get stolen off your feet and you have to walk miles in the brambles just to get to a place where there is a sign that tells you how many more miles you have to go before you sleep.
Yes, I want your forgiveness. M. I want you to know how much I am saddened by the cost of our love and how much I am sorry for bringing so much grief into your life. I know how much my love for you cost us. It cost me plenty and I have no regrets. But I am sorry for whatever sorrow I brought into your life. We paid a heavy price for our love. You paid a different kind of penance than I. But I never asked before for forgiveness. I was unrepentant for years, never cared how high the price was for what we shared. Now I am, only because I know, from gathering my grief all in one place, that it has been a heavy load to carry. I want to set it down now and love you, from here on out, in a way that I never knew was possible. Unconditional, selfless, joyful, without gain and without the glory that those who have been by your side get to reap.
I am tired but I am once again resting in the shade of happiness. I have been learning to love myself and deal with my newfound identity. I am weary but learning to laugh again, in a meaningful kind of way. When we loved back in the day it was real, but man oh man, can we wish it to be even more so? I wonder and yes, wish, just to see you, to see you smile again. I know that you are smiling, I see it in your photos. Continue to walk in the light of a life well lived, my dear. You deserve it.
Love,
Your WHMB
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