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letters to you

Letters to You: Return to Sender

Darling Heart,

I do not write this for you.

Now, do not take that statement to be rude or an oxymoron – on the surface it is both, for it is sharp and obviously I am writing this to you – but look deeper… In reality, I am writing this for me. I am writing it for me because there is no guarantee that you will read this and even if you may, there is no guarantee that you will care for it or understand it because you are under no obligation to do either. And I suppose that is what the end of a relationship implies, that you are no longer under any further obligations towards me nor I towards you.

Our breakup took me to a place that I had not been to in more than 13 years. It was a place I didn’t even know existed anymore for as much as it was a place of pain, it was also a place of feeling. Life hardens you, did you know that? You are still young, young enough, to not really know yet of the absent-minded malice that the average human being exudes like breathing as they walk this earth. And the cuts, shallow or deep, that come from the scrapes and tumbles, they scar over, they harden into a thickness, that protects from re-injury as much as it degrades sensitivity. Living, real living, produces a skin that grows more and more to numb to that living.

I had forgotten what the full sensation of living was like. That is good and bad – I am still in the process of figuring out which parts fall where. Yet, this rawness, this open nerve-like feeling of being capable of doing anything and at risk, in a state of danger, of being able to be hurt by anything…

It is scary. It is frightening. But most of it all it is invigorating, invigorating enough that, eventually, I may call our relationship worth it. (But, rest assured, I am not there yet.)

Here, now, we must get to another difficult part… Darling, I know you would not, could not imagine this, but there are things I lied to you about: how I really felt about a number of things that impacted our relationship, unvoiced needs and disappointments, and how I really felt about you. At this point, the specifics of that don’t matter (we are not going backwards, we are not returning to where we started, this show’s curtain has fell), but you must trust me when I say the following:

I do want you in my life, in some form or fashion, because I genuinely like you. Of course, this assumes you are open to it, and I must give you some fair warning, for:

  • I cannot promise you that it will not be awkward and weird and a little uncomfortable. It most definitely will be.
  • I cannot promise that I will not be cranky or irritated when you start dating someone else – most especially if you start along that path before I do. I certainly will be and I will get over it but it will be a case of “if at first you don’t succeed…”
  • I cannot promise that some of my friends will not bear a grudge – not all of them, but you must understand that I went from 0 to Meltdown: I drank for 14 days straight; there were mood swings; I raged and rampaged… in short, I scared the ever-loving shit out of more than a few people who care an awful lot about me. For some, you are an enemy, of sorts. It will take time.

Here is what I can promise: the above is minor. In the long run it is minor. I want you in my life – full stop. You are worth it. 

I may only hope that you feel that I am worth it, too.

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

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