I guess I start writing and it will make sense. Maybe not to you, but to me... who am I kidding. Maybe not to me either. Maybe it won't make sense to either of us but I still put pen to paper.
I saw you last week. You were riding your bike up Lexington past Neil's and I haven't been able to shake you since. I saw you riding but couldn't get out of my chair to follow you. You actually looked in as you rode past but I couldn't raise my hand to wave. I was caught up in such nervousness, excitement and fear of what your reaction may be that it handcuffed and muted me. I couldn't move or talk, I just watched you ride on... perfectly managing that 'cycling in a skirt' thing with adventurous elegance. The past week I'll be honest I've been back to Neil's for coffee that same time every day with a renewed confidence hoping I'd see you come past again. I wish I had waved, I wish I'd stood up and walked outside to chase you down.
When you said it was hard for you to be with someone who loved you, what does that even mean? Way to just blurt that out there? I guess I know now why I'm writing. You said my care, my touch, my love made you feel terrible. At the time that crushed my heart but I know now it's not about me. It's not about how I care. How I touch. How I love. I'll never apologise for those things and I don't need to; because us not being together is about how you feel. How you feel about you. I almost wish it was me, because then there would be something I could fix, something I could change. But that's not how it is.
It feels as though little time has passed but I know I'm mistaken. There's the possibility my words already seem foreign to you but you must know I do not want for another. I understood my happiness with you. I understood my love. I wasn't getting ahead of myself and it still warms my heart to think of all the ways I found love for you. Like the way your sweater sits on your shoulder and every curl of your hair looks so perfectly placed. But it's not. That's beauty you achieve by blindly throwing life together every day. Effortless and humble in beauty, just as I saw you last week.
Sometimes it's put more simply by others than we can put ourselves:
Even though my mind is hazy and my thoughts they might be narrow,
Where you been don't bother me nor bring me down in sorrow.
I don't even mind who you'll be waking with tomorrow,
But mama, you're just on my mind.
What I wouldn't give to hold you again and share a silence that says more than this letter ever could.
Love from you know who