I miss you.
That’s the most simple message in this letter. I’ve been tossing and turning for weeks wondering where you are, how you are, and if you still think of me. I’ve thought about calling, sending you a message on Facebook, re-adding you. Radical acts have even passed my mind, such as camping out at all the local Waffle Houses, just in case you drop by in the middle of the night for coffee.
I remember when you sent me your poetry. Filled with large, intimidating, somehow threatening words. I remember when we discussed my favorite Atwood poem. I remember reading the poem that I knew was mine.
You used to discuss your lovers with me. Eventually I discovered a soft yearning under your blasé tone when you mentioned your rendezvous. A yearning for me. A distant echo of your heartbeat appearing as message in my phone. I’m so selfish to miss this, Sean.
I never gave you much. I wanted to, deep down. I swear I did. But you were miles away and only going further. You were Sean v. The World. I was me, full of colorful, impossible dreams. We made no sense. It made no sense. I was happy before I met you! God knows we agree on nothing! Why do I feel like a lost child?
Mostly, I think about the day you came to pick me up. What you wore- The glasses and the shoes and the jacket… That smile! Some part of me wanted to worship you. Whether it was my lips or hands or if I just sung your praises… But my mind said, no, bad idea.
I’ve only really seen you three times in my life. Once when we met, twice when you pursued me. Our relationship was late night phone calls. Excuses of boredom. Whines of my mundane life. I believe I’ll see you again. I’m just waiting out the empty spaces. Darling, please don’t forget. Know I’m sorry. I don’t want you to hold you breath for anyone, especially me, but know that you’re very much in my world.
I think I was falling in love with you.
‘Sara’ your sweet virgin angel.