Thursday, March 31, 2016

sometimes

sometimes letters are written before bed and then tucked away to be revealed at a later time. sometimes letters never make it to their destination. sometimes letters need to be written so that sleeping can occur.

Because I have a hard time expressing certain stuff in real time,
(it just comes out messy and wrong)
I'm hoping to do a better job at writing it out.  
I wish I could accurately convey how much you mean to me. It's a lot. 
If I could have it my way, we'd be living together, married, and dealing with stuff like whether or not we should get a dog-friend for Carson or if we should vacation in Spain or Patagonia. 
I wish you had your own shop and your own business, making bicycles and any other things that require really precise geometry. I wish you had a very nice minimalist designed shelf to display your calipers. I wish we both had really fulfilling projects that kept us busy, and after a long day of thinking and making and dreaming we got together with our respective sipping drinks to eat dinner under the stars (on warm nights...okay cool nights too, I'll grab a sweater). 
I think that you're going to get what you want out of life. You are so impressively ahead of the curve in so many ways. 
And I'm worried that you're not ready for the things that I want. (Understandably so.) I'm worried that when you are ready for these things, you'll be ready to have them with someone who's not me. 
Sometimes I feel like a milestone, a point to experience, savor, and then cross. 
This makes me profoundly sad and I wish it weren't true. 

I wish I could send this to you right now, but I'm terrified. 

It's [insert date here] and we just got off of the phone after a trying conversation. It's [insert date here] and once again, hard times...

You are sad, tired, exhausted, and I'm trying my best to be good for you. Someone you can rely on, someone who makes you feel less alone, someone you want to hug and kiss. I don't want to make it worse. I want to make it better. 
I'm paralyzed by worry.
I worry so much about us that I think it's unhealthy. 
I remind myself that life is precious and that we're only on this planet for just a tiny bit of time. Why I don't make the most of it is beyond my comprehension. 
You're right, people should not get stuck in the past, and I like to believe a constructive reflection of it is a-okay.
I would say a bigger problem for me right now is I'm stuck in the future. A future hope that things will get better for us, that we'll stay together, that we're going to grow. 
The present feels precarious and small and wrought with so much uncertainty, frustration, sadness, and stress that the future I'm clinging to seems more and more nebulous. 
I thought I learned to never be attached to an outcome, but here I am obsessing over a future we might not ever have. My heart refuses to accept this despite my brain nervously assessing all possible escape routes waiting for the whole of our everything to catch fire and burn to the ground.
So there you have it- the 10,000 humming birds building a nest between my ears causing a racket, making me terribly clumsy, and easily agitated. Nervous, deranged, full of lamentations, and sad sad songs. 

Edited 
3/31/16 1:44 am 
Edited 
4/12/16 2:42 am
Edited
6/15/16 8:38 am