A line cast, a hope followedSunday, August 07, 2005
dear xxx,
Do you remember that evening in March, at the pub, tapping your toes and singing along with the song piped in over the speakers? You had this smile on your face. An unburdened, surprised, perfectly joyous smile that seemed to have everything to do with being yourself, being in the moment, being with me. It was easy to see directly into your heart, and I guess I would say that was the moment I first fell in love with you. It seemed like in the space of a few hours you had completely left all the "supposed to be's" in your life behind, and slipped into your own skin, giggling at the sheer wonder and fun of finding something you liked there. You held my hand afterward walking out to the car in the dark, so maybe you felt something shift too, although sometimes I wonder if I made up the hand-holding part, almost everything that happened that day seems more like a dream now than something real. Anyhow, this week you told me that talking with me felt like being "at home" and even though this time the conversation lacked any of that prior carefree lightness, it gives me a lot of hope. Hope that I'm going to see that smile again, returned to your face time after time, filling the room with sparkles like a snow globe filled with luminous glitter floating down on everything inside. I know its going to take time, but that is what I'm really hoping for. Not someone to depend on, not someone to end my moments of loneliness, not a ceremony filled with forevers, but someone who feels completely free to be themselves around me and likes who they discover when that happens. Someone I can be wholly myself with, giggling in delight as well.
I guess what I'm getting at here is I want us to play, have fun, discover ourselves, giggle, dance, touch, experience... do all these things before we start worrying about whether we should have separate bank accounts or who will mow the lawn or whether we could have a real argument. Its funny, you've said you can imagine us 20 years from now, but in the meantime I seem fixated on finding the things in the next 6 months that can make you smile that way again. It would be enough.
Do you remember that evening in March, at the pub, tapping your toes and singing along with the song piped in over the speakers? You had this smile on your face. An unburdened, surprised, perfectly joyous smile that seemed to have everything to do with being yourself, being in the moment, being with me. It was easy to see directly into your heart, and I guess I would say that was the moment I first fell in love with you. It seemed like in the space of a few hours you had completely left all the "supposed to be's" in your life behind, and slipped into your own skin, giggling at the sheer wonder and fun of finding something you liked there. You held my hand afterward walking out to the car in the dark, so maybe you felt something shift too, although sometimes I wonder if I made up the hand-holding part, almost everything that happened that day seems more like a dream now than something real. Anyhow, this week you told me that talking with me felt like being "at home" and even though this time the conversation lacked any of that prior carefree lightness, it gives me a lot of hope. Hope that I'm going to see that smile again, returned to your face time after time, filling the room with sparkles like a snow globe filled with luminous glitter floating down on everything inside. I know its going to take time, but that is what I'm really hoping for. Not someone to depend on, not someone to end my moments of loneliness, not a ceremony filled with forevers, but someone who feels completely free to be themselves around me and likes who they discover when that happens. Someone I can be wholly myself with, giggling in delight as well.
I guess what I'm getting at here is I want us to play, have fun, discover ourselves, giggle, dance, touch, experience... do all these things before we start worrying about whether we should have separate bank accounts or who will mow the lawn or whether we could have a real argument. Its funny, you've said you can imagine us 20 years from now, but in the meantime I seem fixated on finding the things in the next 6 months that can make you smile that way again. It would be enough.
