Love Letters, Sometimes to Myself
Do you know why I love you? Sometimes I wonder this. When I am sitting alone, in my little nest, surrounded by my curated things, soft light and cozy blankets, a soft rug, a warm cup of tea, I wonder if you know why?
It was not obvious to me either for a long time. It was just a gnawing feeling deep down in my belly, the longing and yearning for your presence, the constant pull of you in my thoughts. Then it was more. It was warmth, glowing light, tingles and butterflies. It was spring days, picnic blankets and light dancing through the forest canopy. You were love, and more importantly love became you. My definition of what love was, the bar that I would forever hold every other experience of love to, was you.
What do you think about when you remember the first time we met? Do you remember what you were wearing, the way the ocean smelled, the breeze that kept blowing my hair into my face, the way it felt when our arms brushed each others for the first time? I remember the sand, soft,and gentle invading the space between my toes, squishy and warm at first and then as we walked closer to the waters edge the gritty dampness of the sand scratching the bottoms of my feet and clinging. I remember the way you smiled as you watched the sea birds dance with the gusts of wind, they floated along with the currents and then gracefully and freely fell back down towards the surface of the ocean, suddenly just before being caught by a wave, with a single synchronized flap of their wings they would soar back into the air, effortlessly beautiful and safe. As were you. There was other people around with us at that beach, on blankets, tossing frisby’s and footballs, cheeky smiles, inside jokes, and temptations. It was all summer sex, bronzed skin, oily sunscreen, innocent un-broken hearts - it was a moment in time, it was perfect.
I spoke to you first. Do you remember that? Do you remember how I stumbled on my sentence, a simple sentence composed from simple words that when sent in your direction left me rolling out words in an order that made sense only in my head. You stood there for a moment, seconds of silence left hanging between us. We both giggled. I tried again. This time you understood. You nodded, yes you were visiting for the summer, yes you came from the city, yes you would be here until school started again in the fall. You tried next, you asked me a few questions, my face felt hot, my belly felt tight, the world felt far away. The afternoon drifted past like this. Time separated between when we spoke, when I got to hear your voice, when our eyes found each others and everything else in between disappeared into the distance.
As the sun moved across the sky and the sand lost the days heat I remember knowing I would remember. I remember thinking that this was it. This was one of those days that would forever leave a hole in my heart, or maybe I thought, had the hole always been there and this day just filled it a little? It’s silly to say, even from the distance I now have from that moment, from that beach, from that girl, but I loved you that day. Not the same way I loved you later, but I loved you all the same. I wonder if we always have the ability to fall in love so quickly, we just forget how to do it with time, broken promises, cracked hearts, rolling tears, wrinkled sheets, loss? Can I get back to that place again? Can you?
Maybe I am asking you if you know why I love you because I don’t know why anymore. I used to. I used to be able to tell anyone, anywhere who would listen why. I used to be able to sit there and just feel myself loving you. Love, or the act of loving you feels as far away from me these days as those grains of sand on that beach that once clung between my toes. I live as far away as I can from that beach now and from you. And I know this is going to sound confusing to you, because it is confusing to me too but it feels like I cant remember how to love, or what loving you feels like, but I know I love you, I know I loved you. It is all at once, so close and so far. That hole, the one that you either found, or helped to fill in my heart that I got to experience that day on the beach now feels like it belongs to someone else - does this make any sense? No? Yes, that’s fair.
