an email i was dumb enough to write, smart enough not to send.

subject: i miss you.

dammit girl, i miss you. every time i have set my mind upon it and settled that i am over this, that i am no longer looking back on that point in my life with sorrow, but striding forward into something new, it seems like you show up. inevitably you catch my eye, and i wonder what the hell happened. somehow my jokes are still somewhat funny, and perhaps i am a little interesting but yet there’s a disconnect, a lack of engagement that remains polite but yet feels dishonest in it’s shallowness. the weather? it sure is cold.

i don’t know what i did, not really. i know that i failed and the stupid things i have done have become regrets i live with daily. ultimately i don’t know what it was that finally drove you away, but i do realize that it’s not really possible to make things right at this point. regardless, i make an effort even though i am a fool to think it will end in anything other than failure.

so instead i sit across the party, talking with friends old and new, telling tales and getting to know others. all the while my attention is divided, wondering what is going on in the mind and heart of one who already knows me, someone who understands what i am about and has chosen to push me back outside her boundaries, building walls to keep me out even thicker and taller than those that came before.

it’s a sort of feeling – pain really – that i don’t quite know what to do with. eighteen months later you’d think that any reasonable person would have moved on, found someone new and tossed away their old beliefs and feeling as errant and misguided. but i haven’t. i meet people and they are nice enough, but even when they quite literally throw themselves at me, i step back and have to point out that i’d rather be hanging out with someone else. harsh though it may be for them, there’s somebody else i’d rather be spending my time with and it is wrong of me to imply otherwise. that somebody, yeah, that’s you dude.

anyhow, i know that this email is ill-fated and the mental state of the author dubious, but i send it to you hoping that it somehow slips through your defenses and falls on open ears, ears willing to give me a chance of some kind, meager as it may be. but of course my hope for that is only a fool’s hope relly, and i ultimately pray that this email simply doesn’t cause any further strife between us.

yours,

Lee