#4

My johnhenry,
I wish I were writing this letter to tell you that I want a divorce, or to tell you that the only plan I am interested in crafting with you is the one that allows us to go our separate ways and yet fully support the children.  I wish I could tell you that it's over, but we both know that this is not that letter.   

I realized the other day that you occupy a certain, shall we say, closet in my brain.  I'm not sure when I put you in there, but there you sit.  The space is reserved for people that I can't/won't leave.  The people that hurt me the most and claim to love me the most.  The people I am obliged to, the people I endure.  Now that I think about it, I didn't put you there; you put yourself there.

How?  Your mixed messages and actions.  For example, some of your messages are clumsy --"This is what I hate about you."  Some are belittling--"That thing you said when we were having sex was stupid!"  Some are just plain mean--"You're a bitch. You deserve to be alone."  The punching of walls, the throwing shit; all leave me wounded and all are somehow connected to a later statement of love.  

I admit, I bring some heavy baggage of my own.  I was often threatened with abandonment by mom.  I was raised to believe that others would never really want me.  I was molested in a closet as a child and I bring the leftovers into our bed, launching me into to tears or vomiting depending on the act.  All these mixed messages and actions from people espousing their love for me.  I've never kept these things from you.  In fact, I trusted you with this information even though it is against my nature to share and to be known.  I would had preferred to keep it to myself.  That is why we have closets, right? To put away what we don't want seen?    

Over the years, you have chosen to use my weaknesses as ammo to be launched at any given moment.  Yes, johnhenry that's how you fight.  It's all fair game to you.  I indeed had that closet ready made in my consciousness well before I met you, but you, my dear, put yourself in it.  

No, this letter is not to tell you that I want a divorce.  This letter is to let you know that I am cleaning out the closet.  It's not going to be easy but it must be done.  You might want to get yourself out of there before I take out the trash.

--with honesty and love

#3

My Dearest,
Tonight I am filled with thoughts of you.  Maybe it's a little too much wine, maybe it's that johnhenry is being an ass; or maybe not.  Maybe it's just that you are never quite out of my thoughts and it is only by deliberate and focused effort that I keep those thoughts at bay.  Blame it on the conversations--long and brainy yet sometimes silent.  The intellect is most intimate... 

While I have never known you and probably never will,  I can close my eyes and feel you.  You are like the essence of winter itself, the absence of color yet so incredibly bright; so brisk yet beckoning play; the very opposite of all that I am.  No wonder I find you so attractive.  Tonight is blustery with a certain nip in the air --winter and I'm thinking of you.

There are a great many things that I would change if I could.  One would be to know you a little more....

But that is neither here nor there.  I am only writing this note to let you know that you are always with me and I hope that makes you smile.
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