• Meet me?

    by  • March 27, 2017 • * Safe for Work *, To You • 7 Comments

    I keep getting my wires crossed with strangers on this website. It’s sweet, but silly. It has made me go back and forth on whether or not the familiarity I occasionally read is a shadow of you, projected into the content by my wishful thinking. I thought this until last week. And then . . . that last letter was, well… enough. I am nearly convinced but I’m frustrated. I think you might be too. So, I have a solution.

    It’s one week before I start being really busy again, for the next month or so. Cyclical jobs do that. I will give one hour of every weekday this week to hang out up the road from my house, on the hill. Just drive up it, past the residential area. Keep going up. A quarter mile up there is a parking area off to the right. I will be there every weekday the week after this letter posts, from 2 to 3 (in the afternoon, if that wasn’t obvious). I will be there, listening to music, enjoying the view. Will you?

    Perhaps this is ridiculous, but I don’t know what else to do. We aren’t saying anything. We aren’t doing anything. I love you and I’d like to say it to your face. I can’t do that unless we’re alone. And it appears that we can’t really be alone because nobody is asking for it. So, this is me, just doing it. Trying to make it as painless as possible. If you have been here, I want to talk about it but I won’t ask for it out there.

    I’m prepared to feel my heart break if you don’t show. But, hey, do me a favor? tell me if you can’t do it. No reasons are necessary. (I’ll be ignoring any responses that do not identify themselves well enough.)

    I hope those of you reading on have enjoyed reading about my trip to crazy-town.

    7 Responses to Meet me?

    1. Author
      March 27, 2017 at 3:43 pm

      Ugh. Family complications are probably going to prevent this for a few days now. Fuck. I’m sorry. I’ll comment an update soon.

    2. ANEWDAY
      March 27, 2017 at 4:31 pm

      I wish this was from him, but I don’t even know where he lives so I’m sure it’s not. Just a pocahantas.

    3. Update
      March 27, 2017 at 7:48 pm

      Nevermind. I feel foolish. I like this website but fear that I have allowed it to take me somewhere awful psychologically.

      • Anonymous
        March 28, 2017 at 1:12 am

        Type their name and state so they get the message. There could be a chance. Just gotta give that person a clear message.

        • Author
          March 28, 2017 at 7:19 pm

          I am uncomfortable using actual names and locations here. I like the encouragement, though. Just once I would like to read my own letters through another person’s perspective to get a sense of how much uncertainty remains among my identifiers.

    4. A Soul
      March 28, 2017 at 4:55 am

      Whatever the last letter was must have been pretty impactful. I hope that your person agrees to come out and see you. I have had my own wires crossed quite a few times thinking she has appeared on this website, and written a few times.

      As it stands now I haven’t heard from her in quite a few days. She went to an event last week. I wrote her a poem. I wonder if the poem I wrote may have been too much. I know she’s said she loves my writing. I just don’t want her to leave. There is a part of me which will always love her.

      I’m pretty sure this is not her – as she currently – is not focused on a job. But she does work – in her own way.

      But, I know where she lives, and I don’t know of any hills by her house as it is mostly flat area. I will just wish and hope to hear from her again. I just hope she has not grown to dislike me at all. I will always carry a deep love and deep care for her. I will always be willing to talk with her and speak with her. No matter where she is or where she goes.

      • Author
        March 28, 2017 at 9:23 pm

        This is why this website is so addictive. We are not each other’s people, but I find such comfort in the honesty I see in here. I hope she deserves your beautiful affection.

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