Dear A

I can’t quite believe that almost six years have passed since I last wrote you, here…

While out walking under a full moon last night, my thoughts strayed to you, as they invariably did, in such circumstances. I say strayed because on the whole, I do not allow you head space now, I cannot…but that damned full moon caught me unawares and once again you infiltrated my mind.

Do you remember how I once admitted that you intimidated me?

That was back in the early days, back when I still had some semblance of control, back when I could keep you at a safe distance.

Safe is not a word that goes hand in hand with you and yet…you became my safe space, a place in which I could simply be, me.

I never did explain just why you intimidated me.

Now is as good a time as any, especially in light of things.

You had this way about you which made me confront the reality of the world I lived in, confront myself, confront the girl inside that I had all but forgotten existed, the girl who believed.

When I was a little girl, I escaped in to the worlds of the books I read, they were my safe haven, they were what made me believe the words of my mantra; ‘there’s got to be more to life than this’. Nothing could touch me in those magical places, anything was possible and I was truly invincible.

Inevitably, there came a time when I realised that life wasn’t like the books I absorbed myself in, the hero of the story didn’t deserve the title because they would always put themselves first and I, I had to rescue myself and that meant putting childish things behind me.

It meant burying the girl who believed in magic.

Then there was you.

You got inside my head and threatened the very foundations that I had built my life upon.

You intimidated me because I could sense a stirring within, at your words and I didn’t know what that would mean for me, what would happen if the rubble was disturbed and the girl inside was discovered, the girl I left for dead…

from me x

Dear A

I should be packing instead of procrastinating, drawn to the delicate beauty of my blossom tree, beginning to bloom with thoughts of you and the magic we once shared.

Now, more than ever, I am struck by the fleeting nature of life and indeed love, the transient beauty of it all. There is a time and a season for everything, I realise that now, as I ponder the possibility that perhaps, we have had our season in the sun.

I have to wonder though, if love lies dormant in us all, showing no signs of life and yet lingering, unseen, awaiting that first breath of spring, bringing it back to life, with those first buds of hope. Each shoot a sign, slowly but surely unfurling until before we know it, it has blossomed right before our eyes, as if by magic, when in reality it was always there, inside of us, simply sleeping, awaiting those first signs of encouragement. With the slightest breeze, much like the blossom from the tree, it showers us in beauty for all the world to see, that Mother Nature works in the most mysterious of ways.

What becomes of those petals, once they have fluttered through the air, before finally coming to rest at our feet?

I used to think they signified our dreams, laid out before us within easy reach, that if we really wanted to, we could in fact snatch them out of the air, hold on to them and never let them go.

And now?

Now I think they are but memories, which fade over time, until we are never quite sure if we are truly remembering each magical moment or if indeed we simply allowed our imagination to get the better of us…

from me x

Dear A

I remember so clearly your response when I told you I loved you…

“Why would you say that?”

I told you so that there wouldn’t be the slightest doubt how I felt about you, ever again. You may doubt me, my sanity, for not heeding your warnings, you may at times doubt that what we had was real but never, ever doubt the strength of my feelings for you.

For once in my life, I didn’t let anything stand in the way of telling someone just how much they meant to me, while there was still time. Now time is all I have. Time to sit and ponder, remember days and more importantly, nights gone by and wonder at the man who claims he gave me nothing and took everything.

You gave me back everything, I had forgotten I possessed. Daily, you rekindled the fire within, reminded me that I do matter, even in the scheme of things and that I am a person in my own right, with hopes and dreams and a life all of my own. With the most simple of touches, you gave of your strength until I rediscovered my own and was able to stand up for what I believed in, always knowing you were there for me, would fight my corner if necessary.

You peeled back the facade of the cynic and uncovered the girl within, the one that really did believe, not just in fairy tales but in others and more importantly, in herself. You awakened all of my senses, making me feel truly alive again, almost as if I had been sleep walking through life, for the longest time. You saw me, like no other and I actually liked what I saw reflected in your eyes.

You also gave me something, I thought lost forever.

My smile, which I returned.

My gift to you, for I have no need of it now.

One day perhaps, the distance between us will no longer feel so vast and then who knows, I may just ask to borrow it, if only to remind myself how it feels to smile, your smile.

from me x

Dear A

I read a quote today about making the meaning by taking two things and trying to define the space in between them…

Would that work with you and I?

The space between us, is so vast as to seem insurmountable and yet…

That space is but three letters and two spaces.

Not far at all in the scheme of things and yet the math says otherwise.

How do you define that which has no meaning and yet makes all the difference?

What combination of words could possibly describe that even when you feel close enough to touch, we are miles apart?

If you are the masculine, to my feminine, making us two halves of the whole, are we not joined and therefore space is but an illusion?

Does the distance between us deceive and distort reality?

I wish I knew how to describe the space in between us because that’s where the magic really happens…

from me x

Dear A

Tonight I have no words to convey the loneliness of lying down to sleep in an empty bed, filled with the echoes of a dream, which once kept me warm.

If I closed my eyes and stretched out an arm, I could almost feel the heat of your body drawing me closer, until I curled around you, the perfect fit of giggles, as once again you cursed my cold toes, while marvelling at how warm my breasts felt, pressed against you. With you beside me, I needed no blanket, nor wanted one, preferring skin on skin, the delicious contrast between smooth porcelain and soft fur, haunts me, even now.

How can that be?

How can one be haunted by a dream of things yet to pass, moments that felt so real, they cannot be figments of my imagination but memories of days gone by?

I wish I knew.

I wish I knew you, like I used to do, then perhaps you would lie down beside me and laugh at the absurdity of such a notion before trying to silence me with a kiss, which undoubtedly I would attempt to talk through, just to prove a point. Completely missing the point in the process. In that moment, you just had to kiss me, no matter what, nothing else mattered, not even a silly difference of opinion would stop you, if anything it made you want to kiss me more because together, we were fully alive, right there in the moment.

I refuse to let go, even if that means never actually holding you…

from me x

Dear A

I opened up the book before me and one question leapt from the lines within…

“What must be given up so that you can fly?”

I giggled, so it would seem that I still have that capacity but stranger still, was the fact that, earlier in the evening I had been talking about doing just that, giving up something so that I may fly. I have a plan in mind you see, still at the half baked stage, so my lips must remain sealed to the details and perhaps it is but a last ditch attempt at what, I’m not sure, only that the word regret is not something I ever want to associate with you.

Does the universe speak to us, through our unconscious mind, when we need it most? I’d like to think so.

At times understanding seems close enough to reach out and touch and yet if we concentrate on it too much, it shimmers like a mirage before dancing away on the tip of a tongue which seeks to explain, that which can only be felt, somewhere deep inside. I wonder if the root of it all lies with that tree, or to be precise, not too very far away, acorns sheltered by it’s branches, taking seed, growing and forming roots of their own. Are we inexplicably entwined like the roots of that tree or destined to grow apart?

Perhaps we are simply two nuts, falling not too far away from our respective trees, waiting for Mother Nature to weave her magic and find a way of covering the ground between us.

Or…

Perhaps one day, I really will fly and put reality to the test, it’s high time someone did…

from me x

Dear A

In the still of the night, while the world sleeps around me, my thoughts are so loud, I’m surprised they don’t reach you across the pond. Perhaps they do, though you only hear them now as background noise, always there but something you can tune out so effortlessly. If only I could quieten my thoughts so easily, reduce them to a gentle hum, so that I may fall into a dreamless sleep and then I wouldn’t be sat here now, thinking of you.

Alone again, with only my thoughts for company, they seek you out, search for you in the dark recesses of my mind, reminding me of all the little things that added up to make us.

Us…

Whatever happened to us? When did the ties that bind us start to unravel to become you and I, seperating us and yet, even now I wonder if we are still connected, happy in our misery.

I’ve missed us, for the longest time.

from me x