unsent (part two)
We used to write letters. That was before the dawn of widespread electronic communication. Pen to paper, paper to envelope, envelope to receiver. It was a quaintly beautiful process.
Why don't we still do it? Well, times change. But the need to share our thoughts remains constant.
I had a few thoughts to share with some folks who were very important parts of my life. They remain important to me, but they've moved on. In a way, so have I, but I continue carry joyful thoughts of our time together.
And I wanted to verbalize those nebulous memories into something a little more concrete. In this case, words seemed to work nicely. So I wrote to them, to my former paramours, loves, sweethearts ... and to my various other romantic entanglements. The letters remain (and will remain unsent), but I decided to post them here.
Dear Chip,
You were a welcome sight when I took my first vacation back home from Japan. Your smile alone was worth the trip. You know what? I nearly cried when I saw your performance in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolfe?. I did cry when you told me, three years after the fact, that I�d broken your sweet heart. Sorry, but those disgusting Jell-O shots you bought me didn�t soften the blow.
I am so sorry about my incomplete affections toward you. What was wrong with me? I still had feelings for Joel, despite the emotional and physical distance that separated us.
Whenever I see a Bertolucci film, I think about your tiny second-story apartment, the smell of tobacco and your warm hands wrapped around mine.
Dear Jeff,
I remember when we first met on the way to the sumo festival. I nearly fell into a rice paddy staring into your bondi blue eyes.
You know what? I never noticed your disability until you told me. I do notice that the only good picture I have of you is in a purple afro wig. Life�s crazy that way.
Thank you for coaxing me toward a new level in my relationships. You taught me such tenderness. You know, for such a powerful man, I�m still astonished at your gentle nature. You showed me how ultimately masculine being vulnerable can be.
Remember the police interrogation I went through to recover your wallet? Thanks for preventing an international incident, smoothing over the legal rough edges with your pidgin Japanese! From you I learned that enthusiasm can trump eloquence any day. Thank you, my dear sensei from Edmonton. I�ll take a rain check on my skiing lessons one day soon.
Dear Kyle,
A little part of me knew that you never loved me. But a little part of you probably did. We were both wrong.
I still love you. And I�m not afraid to say it anymore. Having gone through a Narcissus/model, it�s good that I graduated to you, my Adonis/computer networker, with brawn and brains!
Goddess Shiva knows you�ll never be an optimist. Take my advice -- assume the best and it might just occur. Case in point: It did when I met you.
Dear Patrick,
I�ve heard that everything�s bigger in Texas. Maybe your Texas-sized expectations were inflated, too. But maybe I was to blame. I wasn�t as great a guy as I should have been for you.
I expect you to reach impressive heights, my handsome friend. Everything will be coming up roses, theatrically speaking.
Writing you was a springboard toward this essay. I thank you first for our estrangement and second for the emotional inroads that breached the divide. Every time we visit, I always leave with a smile on my face.
I sincerely hope that you go to grad school. I know that you�d feel at home there and that you�d enjoy some more time in academia. It�s a great place for you to grow and develop, professionally and personally. I can�t wait to hear about your soon-to-come success.
With gusto this time,