Saturday, July 30, 2011
the heart on pandoras sleeve
I've spent much of the past few days writing what is essentially, my first love letter. My very own Dear John letter, of sorts.
There is so much unseen pressure that comes with writing a letter like this. What kind of paper do I use? what colour pen? My handwriting is too messy! Let alone the content. It took a while, but I got it out. It's signed, sealed and destined to be posted Monday morning. I have no idea how long it will take to get to him - it's probably better not knowing. These could be the last days that I am his friend. Even if this letter changes nothing, it will still change everything. You can't go on pretending that someone doesn't have feelings for you - it would taint everything; everything said would be over thought - it would become hard work.
I have no idea how he is going to react. I think I can trust that he will try to be noble, he may even write a considered response. I don't know. I don't know that I expect anything. From a logical perspective; to me, this letter makes sense - because it lets me release all of these feelings I have kept hidden for so long. It is an idea that scares, but also relieves me, because I know this is the absolute I can do. There will be no more 'if onlys' or 'what ifs' because I will have done all that is within my control. If I get the result I suspect - that is, 'thanks, but no thanks' at least I know for sure, and this should allow me to let go fully. There is only one real risk that terrifies me - if he finds the idea so ridiculous, so embarrassing, disgusting or cringe-worthy that he proclaims it to people I know. That. Would. Destroy. Me.
Initially I was over thinking the letter. How do I lay it out - beginning, middle, end? How do I sign it off - nothing seems appropriate. How much is too much? Eventually, I found my flow.
I told him I like him, I told him a little about why I like him so. I told him how long, and how the letter is difficult for me. I told him that I have no expectations - I let him off the hook. Essentially what my letter says is "I am here, I want you to know I like you - do what you must. I wish you well". Hmmm, maybe I should've gone with that, instead of three handwritten pages.
I figure that this is one of life's rare 'all-or-nothing' moments - I gave it everything. Sending the letter scares the absolute shit out of me - once committed to ink and sent, I cannot control it any longer. I'm releasing these thoughts and feelings into the world, to be carried on the wind to him. But now, that the deed is done, I think I may sleep peacefully, knowing I gave it all - I'm putting my heart on the line, along with every insecurity I ever had about men and love and John. It's either incredibly brave or beyond stupid. What is it about fortune favouring the brave?