• The Fault in Our Stars – M – T

    by  • November 29, 2016 • * Safe for Work *, Moving On • 2 Comments

    Hi Thomas, it’s M.

    If you found your way to this letter, I’m glad. I want you to know that I understand and I accept your silence, and I believe it is necessary for what you and I are trying to accomplish. I respect your distance, and I think for your life to truly be better the distance must remain. Sometimes I fantasize about us meeting up in the future, as better versions of ourselves. Less needy, more understanding, more truthful. But despite your changes, I know that my goal would be determined before I would arrive, and I would happily try to undermine all of your progress to the detriment of my own sanity as well. I look for you often in airports, sometimes imagining that you’ll be on one of my flights and write me a note (how silly). Sometimes I imagine that you or I would be with our families and we would just glance at each other, and go on our way and try not to outwardly display our discomfort/curiosity.

    I can feel you thinking about me while somewhere in Boston, and I can sense you straining against your well worn habits to become a different kind of man. I keep looking for signs from you, that maybe you have something to say. But I know that it would be unhealthy and you’d only be cheating yourself. I hope you take a deep breath every now and then and feel your progress. I’m rooting for you. I want you to be happily married, and maybe that’s a crazy thing for a former mistress to say. I must be a bit crazy, right? But I hope your focused on your kids and your marriage and I hope its getting better. I hope that even if it’s not everything you want, I hope that it’s enough.

    For me, 2016 has been a hell of a year. I feel like a shift is happening in my conscience and my life. I am following my dream and moving to Colorado in late December, where the mountains make me feel small and nestled, and also adventerous and full of possibility. I think you can understand why that’s a good fit. I want to feel the barren, dead of winter, and look for signs of growth only in myself.

    If you never read this, that’s okay. I don’t have any questions that need answering, and I don’t have anything new to add to our drug out drama. Just that I think of you sometimes, and I wish you well.

    With Love Always,
    M

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    2 Responses to The Fault in Our Stars – M – T

    1. Peter C
      December 2, 2016 at 4:11 pm

      Can I say, I love this letter! You write like a dream, and you mix metaphor, insight, and wisdom. Whatever you are doing in Colorado, I’m sure you are splendid at it.

      I hear the muted echoes of sadness in your tones, and I am sorry for it. You sound like someone still searching for something treasured that was lost, something wrapped in meaning and love. I hope your life will grow gently over the hole, that this will become less of a sorrow and more of a tale.

      ——-

      OK, I’m back from rereading your note several times again. It is still wonderful. If part of what you do in your life is write, I hope you do. I hope you dance.

      Peter




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    2. M
      December 4, 2016 at 12:38 am

      Thanks Peter. I love to write but I don’t often. It’s hard to be honest about some of my experiences so this is a good outlet. I’m trying to make more time for writing as it really helps me process my emotions.

      There was something loved and lost but I think sometimes the losing part is what has made it beautiful and treasured.

      Thanks for the encouragement 🙂
      M




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