#dear madam

[freak-dot-exe]

What a terrible curse it is to love so deeply and to never be loved in return.

I would crack my ribs open and pull the lungs out from my chest for you. You would not bother to return my call.

What a wretched curse that thing, love.

[freak-dot-exe]

Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me.

Truly stuck, my dove, because in the fall of that year, when I laid my eyes on you, I knew immediately that I needed you in my life. I thought you were funny. Magnificent. A proud, confident, woman-shaped piece of the cosmos. I thought you were gut wrenchingly beautiful, yes.

I still do. Always.

However, that moment, it was as if my soul knew yours. It was as if some animal instinct, some deep piece of me that evolution failed to weed out, recognized you.

There she is. Freckles and all. You found her again.

I can’t believe you found her again.

And your gaze met mine and for an instant I lived a million lifetimes. My body remembers all of them. I remember all of them. I remember you by my side in every one. And I knew that you had forgotten me, but I knew that I could remind you.

So I did.

And I do.

Every day, I try my best to help you remember me. To help your soul feel mine. To let you know that I found you again. Freckles and all.

And to make sure, when our time is up in this life, that you know there is no mountain nor valley, no God nor angel, no Devil nor ghoul that will stop me. I will find you again next time.

And I’ll help you remember then, too.

[freak-dot-exe]

When we were standing in that lot and I said “let me see” and you knew immediately to spin around and show me your outfit ?

My dove, in that moment your soul entered my lungs and it has not left ever since.

[freak-dot-exe]

I put my car in park.

“Can I help you with anything?” I ask as you gather your bags… your to-go box… your phone… your drink… your coat…

“No, I can do it,” you say. “Thanks, though.”

And I know that you can do it. I know you aren’t weak, I know you’ve carried the weight alone before. But I know that my hands are here to catch the overflow. I know that when you hand me your bag or your phone or your drink to guard, it feels like a blessing. I know that as long as I keep saying words to you, the day hasn’t ended, and you stay here with me. And I’m not ready for the day to end yet, so I roll up my sleeves and reach into the deepest part of my soul, the part of it that soaks you in, and I tear a piece out and I offer it to you. I’ll carry your things, or I’ll dig your car out of the driveway, or I’ll wait at the corner to make sure you make it inside safely, because pieces of my soul are with you. And it’s okay that you don’t want it, but I want you to know that it’s there.

I want you to know that I’m here, and as long as I’m saying words to you, then the day isn’t over, yet. And you’re here, too. And I want to tell you that.

I want to tell you every last bit of it.

But I don’t. I can’t.

“No problem,” I say.

I love you, anyway.

And it flies over your head. But I’ll keep reaching into my soul and tearing off little pieces to offer to you,

and I’ll leave each little piece at the end of your driveway.

It’s there in case you want it.

[freak-dot-exe]

You smile and wave me over.

The seat is just big enough for the both of us.

You pat the space beside yourself. I sit.

Your head leans and finds its rightful place.

My shoulder.

Rest upon me.

Let me hold your weight.

I lean into you.

Your elbow presses into my side.

I don’t mind it.

Relax for me.

Rest upon me.

For a moment we are still.

We are sweet.

We are nothing less than us entirely.

I wake to your absence.

The weight upon my shoulder and the jab in my side persists.

My fever persists.

Rest upon me, for it is my medicine.

Rest upon me so I might become well.

[freak-dot-exe]

Spiral.

Spiral, squabble, and fall.

A young man who knows it all.

A young girl who cares no bit.

Unto each other: no better fit.

Spiral.

Spiral, squabble, and fall.

One loose tongue can end us all.

Hark a confession of bitter mistake.

One bumbling fool, for Heavens’ sake.

Spiral.

Spiral, squabble, and fall.

Lord only knows, was it real at all ?

So pretty a face with tone deaf name.

Nigh the end of a pointless game.

[freak-dot-exe]

Every night, before I go to sleep, I press a penny a kiss.

You once held it in your hands and I know that the essence of you lingers there, somewhere between the copper and me.

It’s a prayer.

It’s the closest I’ve ever felt to God.

It’s you.

I do it every night. It doesn’t matter if I just saw you or if it’s been weeks without you. Every night, I kiss the penny you gave me. I imagine your fingertips. The palm of your hand. The handful of coins resting in your pocket.

I picture you.

And in that moment you are God.

That is what I’m kissing.

That is what I’m praying for.

I couldn’t dare to rest a single night without your grace upon my lips.

[freak-dot-exe]

I hope you know that when I send you photos and videos of different, beautiful places around the world, it’s not only because I want to go there. It’s not only because I want to go there with you.

It’s because when I see something so beautiful, or imagine something so freeing, I can’t help but think of you.

All the pines in Washington and the snowcapped mountains in Nepal, to the grassy cliffs of Ireland and sandy beaches of La Romana… all the most beautiful places in the world; My love, it all looks like you.

Every last piece of it.