I awoke this morning and felt calm and myself. Fire walking and all that. I'm doing the stuff. I have wonderful allies. That part is beautiful and suitably terrifying.
I thought about you - my husband. I cried. I cried because I want you so much to be happy and to find love. I don't want you to hurt anymore. I hope that one day you will thank me for this rip that I have instigated.
And this is selfish.
I am tangled in you. The loss of all of our shared life - our intimate life - and that look on your face and the feelings I know you have - I feel. I can't seem to release myself from you. I feel compelled to attempt to lead you to something, and I don't know where I am myself.
(and there's this part of me that still still still looks and craves your nurturing. you and your warmth and love are often all that keep me from sinking - purple prose, and I feel this as weakness?).
This will be my first Christmas in nine years without you (or is it eight). I am scared and oddly anticipatory.
There is one hurdle: I've got to return home and have them love you and wonder with abject pity when I'll come to my senses and return to the warmth of your hearth. They'll ask me why I am doing this, and I will lamely answer that it is because it wasn't working. I will be terrified to assert myself. My dear.
The end of year assessment. 2004 was a bitch remember? We couldn't wait for it to end. We even did one of our all too usual uses of the Chinese New Year in which to start over - do over. 2005 has been a banner year. Wouldn't it be logical to be floored?
I don't know what I'm saying. I don't know why I'm doing what I'm doing. I don't know why I can't love you correctly - anymore than I knew why I did love you correctly - like a lover. I can't write. I'm an aching being.
You have been and shall ever be - my friend. I love you, and I'm sorry I cried (is it tied to my guilt at feeling like I'm leaving you bereft?). You deserve nothing but smiles and excitement and giddiness. As you taught me: you manifest what you think.
I love you. Leave me. Don't leave me.
Laugh at me. Laugh with me.
Leave me if you have to.
Laugh. I wish you so much laughter. I feel like a fool - this silly weightless series of words to try and describe something essentially unknowable.