• Hello Dear

    by  • December 30, 2017 • * Safe for Work *, Love - Pure and Simple • 6 Comments

    There are so many things I’d love to tell you… That everything’s always going to be all screwed up so might as well ride the kinks in the wire like a roller-coaster instead of meticulously trying to straighten it out with your pair of pliers that dwarf like children’s toy’s in a steel plant. That I can be reliable. That I can be fine. That everyone’s got their struggles, so that pent up frustration you have about someone’s attitude and actions isn’t solving anything, just making it worse, making it uncomfortable, making it oppressive. That some people are more stable than others. That not everyone has to suffer. That there is hope…
    I could feed you the answer : “My grandma once told me this thing… If everyone in the world put all their problems in a big pile to trade, you’d hurry up and take yours back because, at least, you know how to cope with your own problems.” It’s become the motto in the back of my head. The chant that tries to keep me from losing my head completely. It keeps me humble. It helps me put up plaster. Funny how you can put up plaster and the house can look gorgeous, but you take that sledgehammer and you knock it out and, behold, the studs are all wrong and the wiring shoddy and your whole fucking house is two damn feet off center.
    And I could tell you I have it all put together. But that’d be a lie, in direct contradiction with what I’d love to tell you, and I hate contradicting myself. I get caught and, suddenly, the words are gone and I’m floundering and smiling and laughing and trying to regain a steady footing. I’d rather keep my big mouth shut. What’s true, I believe, is that no one has it all put together. And it’d be a disowning of my humanity if I said that I didn’t have that monster in my stomach too, making my nauseated at the slightest movement, pulling me away from people, clawing it’s way up into my throat and sealing it closed so that no air can get it, prickling at my eyes in solitude, tormenting my brain in sleep. It’s always there. And you have to come to peace with that. Because it loves to mess with the people that can’t throw their weight into it and suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take arms against a sea of troubles.
    You, my friend, I’ve known you so long…and, yet, I have yet to know you. And you have yet to know me. People like you make me wish I could saw away at my tiny world and push into the sea, disappear in the waves and never to be seen again. I could be content with that: alone with the wind, the sea, the sky, the land. Oh, how I long to bid you a final adieu, retreat into myself and leave you behind.. So I shall list the things in my mind to tell you, but never will in the fear of losing a friend. Because I know that you are the closest thing I’d ever have to the definition, I know that there is only so much you can handle, I know that losing you would be like ripping off an arm or leg or eye, and I know that I’d be terribly alone…

    6 Responses to Hello Dear

    1. Friend
      December 30, 2017 at 11:21 am

      You already sound alone

    2. PeterC
      December 30, 2017 at 11:56 am

      You have such a wonderful way with images and metaphors. “ride the kinks in the wire like a roller-coaster” – you combust words like an acetylene torch flaming blue. I hope you stay with your urge to share and discover and connect, despite all that pulls and pushes you away from your other.

    3. Officially Freaked Out
      December 30, 2017 at 10:55 pm

      In my dream last night, I heard this… “If everyone in the world placed their problems into a pile, you would immediately reach for yours.”

      “Why?” I asked.

      “Because you are comfortable coping with your own. You already know how.”

      This letter totally just freaked me tf out.

    4. FM
      December 31, 2017 at 5:15 pm

      I love you too and this sucks.

    5. K
      December 31, 2017 at 6:30 pm

      This is the most beautiful letter I have ever read on this site. Its one of the most beautiful letters I have ever read. It touched me. You’ve been heard. Perhaps not by your person but by someone. This is a letter you should send. It really is beautiful and so relatable. Happy New Year. Thanks for sharing ????

    6. K
      December 31, 2017 at 6:31 pm

      Just noticed it turned my smiley face emoji into question marks. No questions. Smiley 🙂

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