On the Roof

I once wrote that I'd climb the Eiffel Tower to be met by a thousand snakes if I knew at the end, you'd be there.

Well, in our first meeting of the second round of "us," you took me to the roof of your building. 5 stories high. A beautiful view of the city. I didn't even ask. Didn't protest. Didn't resist. Sure, I'm terrified of heights.

But, you were there. I would walk anywhere with you. No, it wasn't a towering monument filled with snakes, but in retrospect, it should have scared the hell out of me.

You give me comfort and peace in a way no one else has.

Will I walk the stairs and climb onto the roof and sit for an hour and talk with you while we see the city? YES!

And I will feel calm, confident, in control, at peace.

Because you are there. Because with you, I'm the best me.

With you, I do the things my heart wants... I live the life I've dreamed of living.

Just your presence... is enough.

We were on the roof... sharing our worlds.

I've never, ever been happier.

Don't Marry Your Best Friend

A very common piece of advice young people are given is that they should "marry their best friend."

Don't fucking do it.

The sentiment, the intention, is nice. I mean, of course you want to be able to get along with the person who you've agreed to spend ALL of your life with.

BUT.

Does that person also light your soul on fire?

Sure, your best friend is there when you need them most … and they've seen the ugly parts of you and are still around.

BUT.

Your spouse will be there EVERY FUCKING DAY.

FOREVER.

So, yes, sparks die out.

But.

Have you ever touched the sun?

Have you ever met someone that made it feel like you were touching the sun...and that when you did, you didn't burn up or get absorbed, you only became brighter?

THAT.

Does your best friend do that?

No?

The person who lights your soul on fire.

THAT.

That is who you should marry/partner/commit to.

Because one day, that best friend will piss you off or miss something or fuck something up.

And … well, sure, they were there for you all that time. But, you don't have some memory of a soul on fire. You can't look into their eyes and see a flame ignite. Because it was never there.

Choose the sun.

The sun is a flame... a heat... that sustains life.

That person that you'd fuck in the laundry room while your kids are watching another PBS show? YEAH. THAT IS LIFE.

That's the essence of life.

Your best friend is reliable, yes. They show up, yes. And maybe, just maybe, the sun for you is not always there...

But … that warmth, that heat, that passion... hell, even the memory of that passion...that's sustaining...it's life-giving.

Sure, you need a best friend.

But maybe not in your house...or as your permanent life partner.

Life may not be as predictable when you marry the Sun...but it will be warmer, happier, more emotional, more complete.

Keep your best friend.

Marry the fire.

You don't know this...

You don't know this... and you may never know.

But. Just before I met you, I almost died.

I was closer than I have ever been to ending my own life.

This was over a year ago, but it was only a few months before I met you.

I snapped out of that vision.

I was listening to a song I know well... a painful, powerful rendition.

And I saw all of it.

The gun in the drawer, the gun in my mouth, all of it.

I'm not there any more. Not even close.

For one, I sold the gun.

The darkness followed me … days that led into weeks that became months.

Then, you.

I met you.

And that one tiny message... "I want you to know I really appreciate you." That's ALL I needed.

The darkness went away.

I just needed one person to believe... to see the amazing inside me.

Just one.

YOU SAVED MY LIFE.

You don't know it and I don't know how to say it.

But, I'm writing it here.

Thank you.

First Love

I met my first love when I was 43.

Yes, I'd been with other women. Had met them, held them, made love to them... told them I loved them, heard them say it back to me.

But. No one. Not one single person moved me...touched my heart... like she did.

Not until I was 43 would I give myself fully to another person. Not until that day would I open my heart.

I hugged her when we met the first time...she embraced me in return.

The magic was just beginning.

I met my first love when I was 43.

In some ways, that is difficult to realize, hard to type.

But. That's what I happened.

I had given good parts of me, most of me, the love I knew how to give to others.

But to her, I gave it all.

To know I have that capacity...to know that CAN be done, it's a tremendous gift.

She's in my life again.

In a small but beautiful way. I'm rejoicing that she's there.

My heart still sings with each text from her.

I don't know what's next.

I know she taught me how to love...how to give.

I met my first love when I was 43.

I will never be the same.

Phone Call

One year ago today, I made a phone call.

I knew. I knew before I made the call what I wanted.

It had been almost exactly 20 years since I'd called a woman for the purpose of securing a date.

Sure, I'd seen people, dated, even. But... to pick up the phone and verbally request that you meet me at a specific time and place with clear romantic intentions? It's now happened exactly twice in my life.

Yes, I knew what I wanted. But there was no way to know what would happen next.

I always like to know the ending.

I take great care to plan and think and factor and figure... so I know all the possible options and can choose the best path forward.

The only thing I knew one year ago was that I had to see you.

That I could not go one more day without asking to see you. That as soon as you were available, I wanted to look into your eyes and hear your voice.

Here are my great fears: Heights. Snakes. The phone.

Sure, I call people when I absolutely have to and it can't be avoided. But, texting has enabled me to avoid LOTS of calls and to set up meetings and dates without having to endure the phone.

Still, I wanted to hear your voice... I wanted to ask you one thing and I wanted (badly) for you to say yes... and I knew that if you said yes to me over the phone, you'd be there.

So I called. And we talked. And I asked...and you said yes, that you had time the next day. We could have coffee.

That day... one year ago … began the longest period of complete happiness I've ever experienced.

Our coffee date was... amazing. And, the rest was incredible. And, sure, it ended. I know why. It wasn't harsh or cruel or mean... it was necessary, however painful.

I will forever remember that phone call, every single word of it.

I still cannot believe it happened...and I still cannot believe you said yes.

Everything after showed me a peace, a happiness, a pure acceptance that I did not know was possible.

I love you. More than I have ever loved before. More than I will likely ever love again.

And it all began with that one phone call one year ago.

Wedding Day

You wore a long, flowing white dress. Simple, clean, long... accentuating your height. Your hair pinned back at the sides with flowers. Your feet bare, and still taller than me.

You looked down as you walked, shy, quiet, heart beating fast.

I could not stop smiling.

The day was cool, the grass still moist from morning dew.

The view... the hills... the valley below.

The few gathered with us. A small circle of friends and very select family. No more than 20 all told.

THIS. This is the day I've waited for … every single day of my life was getting ready for this day.

My path... like an ancient river, snaking through a thick forest. Twists, turns, slow movements, fast currents over jagged rocks.

Your path was more direct... not without bumps, but … more certain.

I still... still can't believe I even made a mark in the book of your heart.

Here we are.

Our wedding day.

Our promise to each other.

Our beginning.

I let you down ...

Before I even knew you, I let you down.

I made choices. Lots of choices. But the main choice: I accepted "good enough me."

There is a person inside me … the man you saw I could be … but, I was too comfortable, too complacent to claim him.

I knew. At some points, the pain was too much, too strong. And I thought: I'll do THIS now. But, I put it off.

And... life was good enough.

Sure, there was that time on a work trip when I cried after getting off the plane because I knew what could have been, what could be … if I would just... but, well, I didn't.

The irony in this is that I shouldn't even have been where I was when I met you. Had no business there. Being in that place was part of "good enough me." The part that didn't deserve what we had, if only briefly. So, there I was. And, there you were.

But … here's the thing: Because I accepted "good enough" for so long, I wasn't ready. I was in no position to ask you what I did on that last night.

But I asked. And you didn't say no … not right away.

But, of course, you did. Anyone would … I'd tell 100% of my friends to walk away if someone asked what I did. And I LOVE you... so, walking away was the right thing... for you. And, well, for me.

Because you walked away, I was forced to deal with "good enough me."

Fuck good enough me.

I don't know... I don't know how to articulate how much I'd give to have dealt with this ANY time before the day we met.

I never knew there was a you.

I've met so many people in so many places and had so many fulfilling encounters, relationships, etc...

NOTHING comes close to this... to what we had... what we both saw we could have.

But … I let you down. Before I knew you.

I promise this: I'm better .. and I'll be 100% open with you going forward, just like I was then.

I would bet on my life that you will never find a man more committed, more devoted, more all-in with you than I am.

Here's what that means: I want you to be happy. Period.

That doesn't have to be with me... I had accepted good enough for so long … and you deserve better.

I fully accept that there's someone out there who will be committed to you, who will be living his best life, and who will embrace you.

Will he be as "all-in" as I am? I doubt it … but, you deserve that happiness of being wanted by a man who has all his things in order.

Had you said yes that night, I'm not sure I'd be here now … truly, you gave me the most beautiful gift -- the desire to get my shit together.

I will forever be here for you. In any way you need. Not desperate, not weird or creepy. Just here.

You gave me a gift greater than anything I've ever received.

And the only way I can repay you is to be 100% the man you saw inside. If you never want to be with me as more than friends, I understand. Just know that I know... and promise me you'll never accept "good enough" for yourself.

I want to go in ...

For so many years, I've wanted to go away. I wanted to leave the house because it hurt there. I wanted to not come home b/c of the screaming. I wanted to get out of this town because that's where it all started. I wanted to move on from college and get money. I wanted to leave this job because I couldn't stand the people. I wanted to walk away from this relationship because I couldn't deal with what was happening.

Always going away meant the problems kept stacking up... they didn't leave just because I did.

But, my life was good enough. Comfortable, pleasant. Sure, these things hung over me, but I could always walk away. Make a slight change... not deal with it.

Plus, I made decisions. Good ones, sure. But also, some that got me into situations... that I wanted to walk away from...

In fact, I should NOT have been doing what I was when I met you.

It was one more instance of me walking away...or, distracting myself from the reality of my situation.

Still, of all the decisions I've made.. the not so good ones, I do NOT in any way regret doing what I was when we met.

It seems impossible I would have met you otherwise. And, by chance, I met YOU. A truly amazing, kind, gentle soul who showed me the me I'd forgotten.

For the first time, I didn't want to go away.

I wanted to go in... all in. With you.

But, that meant dealing with a stack of shit I'd left to the side for years...

No matter, taking that pile on is easy when compared to the idea of not having you..

You're back now, in some ways.

And I've spent months dealing with things that once seemed overwhelming but now seem trivial.

I wish I hadn't always been going away... I wish I had stopped and dealt with things...but, that seemed to be a sure path toward disruption, discomfort. I'd had enough of that.

I've said before, but it bears repeating: I would trade anything for the opportunity to have met you AFTER I'd dealt with all of this... I wish we were meeting for the first time today.

But, that's not how it works.

Life is messy.

There's no explanation for why we met when we did.

I am beyond thrilled it happened, even if we can never be more than friends going forward.

My life is forever changed b/c of what you meant (and mean) to me.

I won't be walking away again...

I want to go in …

This is How I Know

I love you.

I know this like I've never known anything else in the world.

I saw a picture today.

A friend, nearly 60, posting her wedding pic.

Noting she'd married her best friend. Both of them smiling.

If I have to wait until I'm 60 to marry you, I will.

I want that moment with you -- I can already see it in my mind.

I might explode when you look at me as my wife. But... if so, I'll die happier than anyone has ever been.

You are back in my life now. After a long time … a seeming eternity … and I am soooo glad.

I won't push.

I won't ask for too much.

I want this.

I want to hear your voice and see your face and read your words on my phone. I cannot begin to tell you what they mean...what you mean to me. I feel … silly, stupid, idiotic, inept... but, that's LOVE. We went so far so fast last year.  And then... then I thought you'd be gone forever.

Now, here you are. Again.

And I wonder if this is even real... this can't be my life. I don't deserve this. Yes, that's my default. When something good happens, I think I don't deserve it.

But...well, you are something amazing... incredible... something I don't have words for...

Anyway.

You asked me how I know I love you... THIS is how I know:

NOTHING has hurt more than the time you weren't in my life.

Going from standing in your kitchen, to holding you against my car, to not seeing or hearing from you for months...

I cannot begin to describe that pain.

I've been in the ER because someone hurt me so badly... I've seen my money stolen... I've worked 12 hour shifts and watched my effort disappear... I've watched a close friend die...

I used to think it was all terrible... I used to dream of walks on the sidewalk near my house and burst into tears... I used to see the hallway and the green carpet and the monster in my room... and all I wanted to do was run away.

And then... then you.  And then you were gone.

And suddenly … ALL of those things. I'd do them 1000 times over if it meant I ended up with our brief time together.

Holding you was like embracing the sun... your light, your heat, your power... strong, intense...and yet I wasn't burned, instead, you lit the sun inside of me...the one I'd forgotten... dim as the moon on a cloudy night by now, only faint glimmers of past potential... yet you saw it.

I HELD THE SUN!

The sun chose me...

And so.

So... I did it.

I did the things... I took people on, I confronted, I worked... there is MUCH more to do. I want to be clear.

But I WILL be the sun you saw inside of me.

If all we ever have is what we have now... I'll shine so bright the world will not be able to ignore it...

YES... I dream of more... but I know we had our moment...

YOU made this happen... you gave me the fire I needed to be the man I can and will be... You made me want to climb the highest mountain to be the best... to be all of me.

I would LOVE to hold you one more time... to taste the sweet, soft kiss of your lips...

I know that may not be possible...

I know I love you...

This. This is that feeling...that thing... that... THIS IS LOVE... it's what I've wanted since forever and what I found in you and no one and nothing can take away what we shared...

Nothing hurts worse than not having you in my life.

This is how I know.

I Wanna Learn a Love Song

So, I've always loved Harry Chapin -- it's a thing I shared with my dad. He'd play a Harry Chapin tape in his car -- the one with the cassette player. And he knew all the lyrics and he'd sing terribly along and I'd laugh with him.

Lately, I've been thinking of this Harry Chapin song: I wanna learn a love song. In particular, these lyrics:

And all them pinup girls in that tinsel world
Never touched me like she can

Chapin was comparing the woman he was with (Sandy, his eventual wife) to the women he'd met during time he spent in California.

But here's the thing: Sandy was married to a lawyer and had three kids.

Harry was just there to teach guitar.

What happened next didn't make any sense. It wasn't logical.

Sandy was married. Harry was a young guy trying to make it in music with no money.

Sandy had kids...

Sandy was another man's wife.

Sandy didn't want to "learn a love song..." Sandy wanted to be in love.

I'm sure she had good feelings about her husband... I'm sure she'd told him she loved him. I'm sure she did love him.

They had three children together. By all accounts, there life was "on track."

But what Harry felt -- and what Sandy felt - was LOVE.

Ultimately, Sandy left her husband and married Harry.


The bottom line: The two of them felt love for each other -- true, intense, deep love. Harry made something happen inside Sandy that no one else had. She left a good life and a family to claim that feeling.

This … this song. This is how I felt about .. her.

Sure, the circumstances were different.

But the feeling...

I told her on the phone one night that I couldn't describe how I felt about her... I had no words.

I make money from writing... from telling stories... from using words to paint pictures. And no words could describe how my heart felt with her... none.

None of how we met or dated or came together made any sense. At all. If I told this story to 1000 people, none of them would believe it. If I told to 10 people who've known me for some time, none of them would believe it.

I thought there was maybe a 1% chance she'd say yes to a coffee date IF I called her. We'd tried to meet via text and it just wasn't happening... so, I reasoned, if she verbally agreed, maybe she'd meet me.

I HATE using the phone... I hate calling people, I hate phone calls generally, I can't end them without feeling awkward, etc... everything about a phone call drives me crazy.

But...there was a 1 in 100 chance that IF I called her, she'd agree to meet me... to sit across from me and have coffee and look into my eyes. That's only slightly better than the 0 in 100 chance she'd do it if I didn't call.

It didn't matter. That slight difference...that chance that there was a chance... that's all I needed.

She said yes.

Holy fuck.

She said yes.

She was going to meet me for coffee.

I texted her the next morning... the day of the date. She was up, she was ready, we were meeting. She texted me when she left her apartment. She was on the way...

She walked in... I hugged her, she hugged me...

 Holy fuck.

ALL the lights went on.

ALL of them.

We talked, we laughed, we hugged, I took her home... we agreed on a lunch date...

I was walking on air.

Lunch..

A trip together... 4 days...just us.

Magic.

I learned a love song.

I learned I'd never really been in love before.

I was 43.

I can talk about why or how I got to 43 without this...

But.

It doesn't matter.

There I was... in love.

In a situation that made ZERO sense.

There I was... in the back of a Lyft in a city I visited often... with her. Crying. Crying in front of another person. Crying in front of her.

Because I knew.. she knew... this was a fantasy.

And... well... we kept on... for a bit.

This is where the story turns...

DEAL WITH YOUR FUCKING SHIT.

Go back to Derry.

Do what you have to do.

One night, I stood in her kitchen... she already knew more about me than any single person in the world... but, well, I knew what I wanted. And, for the first time in my life, I was going to ask for it. Yeah, I was 43 and fuck you, yeah, I was 43 and there's a lot of reasons why I got to this point ...but God damn it...

Anyway, there I was … in her kitchen. In her apartment. In front of her. Looking into the eyes of a woman I LOVED. I LOVED.

She touched me like no else ever has... like I suspect no one will...

And I said it: I said -- I LOVE YOU.

I told her what I  needed to do... what was next.

And I told her I wanted her to come with me on the journey, even though I knew it would suck... and suck a lot.

It was a journey I'd avoided in 2005, 2012, and 2016 -- each time, the pain grew intense, but I found a "way out" and didn't do ALL I needed to do.

It was … good enough.

Plus, I figured, the odds of meeting someone so amazing I'd want to go through the pain of dealing with all of that... basically ZERO.

Good enough was... well, good enough.

DEAL WITH YOUR FUCKING SHIT.

I'm ok. I'll be ok.

But I will probably never, ever meet someone like her.

We're talking again... after many months of not.

And … well, it's nice.

But... that … that soul fire... it still burns in me. but she's keeping a safe distance. She probably always will.

I wanna learn a love song... I learned a love song. I got to love and be loved. It may never, ever happen again … though this very scenario seemed so unlikely even just one year ago.

NOTHING feels like this did... like I feel for her.

I will … still … give her all of me and take every bit of her.

But …

She may be waiting... looking for someone who doesn't have all this shit to deal with... someone who has taken Derry head-on and won.

And she deserves every bit of that.

I'm getting there... but I don't blame her skepticism.

I learned a love song... I was in love with someone who was in love with me.

Truly. Madly. Deeply.

That may never, ever happen...

again.

And the one lesson I take from that is: the pain of dealing with shit any time BEFORE I met her...

I would climb the highest mountain and meet 1000 snakes if I knew at the end, I'd see her face.

But life doesn't work like that... you can't go back and make different choices.

So.. confront your demons... deal with your shit.

Be ready for that surprise love song to get to you.

I saw Nirvana and I saw it slip away.. yes, I held it for a moment... and I'll cherish that forever... perhaps... maybe, it will come around again... she will come around again...

But the pain of not knowing... of walking away … of watching her leave...

I wanna learn a love song... and sing it with her until I die.

Not Like This

The whole time... the whole time we were together, I felt it was, well, bizarre.

It was strange the way we met... odd the place we met.

All of it... the trajectory of our coming together … highly unlikely.

But, there we were. Together. Having coffee and then lunch and then more and then a trip and then...

I said you were amazing...and you are. You said I was incredible.

You once asked me to describe how I felt about you...

And, well, I couldn't … I couldn't find the words.

I'd said the words "I love you" to others...but, those words seemed to fail to convey the complete possession of my heart... you had (and still have) ALL of me.

I can't help it and I can't stop it and I have never been happier in my life.

I used to think: This, this is good. Or, wow...

But... you.

I've never loved like this. Not with all of me. Not completely.

I've never accepted ALL of someone else... not completely.

And... well, I know our brief time had to end...

And... I'm thrilled you're back in my life.

If we never have again what we had in those brief moments, I'll at least have that time...those weeks and days and minutes .. to look back on and remember what it was like to be lost in love.

And when I see you now, I see love.

I respect you...

The basis of love is respect.

If all you want now is to work with me, to sit with me, to talk to me... I can do that.

For more than a week now, I've slept well... and I'm not crying every day.

I'm not crying at all.

Having you in my life... in any way … is true beauty.

You know where I stand... what I want: ALL of you.

But know this: No one has touched me like you do, like you can.

I am here. For you.

I want all of you and I'll give you all of me.

I've never loved like this... and just a moment in your presence is like a thousand perfect summer days.

If you never want more than just "this" just working and being and talking... I'm here.

But if you decide you want what we had in those moments we shared, I'm here.

Those days we had together...that feeling... it can be real every single day.

I've never loved.

Not like this.

Let me say this

When you texted me... just then. That night. You said, "How are you?!"

That's what you said.

Let me say this: The woman I love more than I've every loved anyone hasn't talked to me in nine months... how do you think I am?

Let me say this: I thought I'd been in love before, I really did. I thought I'd given all of me.

But: I hadn't.

There's no reason you would or should believe me. I'm sure other people have said, "I love you more than anything" to you before.

But.

Dammit.

Here's the fucking evidence.

I told you EVERYTHING.

All of it.

Remember that night? Of course you do, you remember everything! The first night we were really alone together. And I told you about Michelle? Remember? Who the fuck does that? NO ONE. No man would tell you that story on his first night alone with you unless...

Unless he was already in love with you.

Unless he wasn't afraid to win...

Unless he wanted more than anything for YOU to be the one who saw ALL of him.

I LOVE YOU.

Yes, I've said those three words before. And, I've meant them. At least, as I understood them.

But. I LOVE YOU.

You can have: My phone for an entire day to see who I'm texting and who texts me. My bank accounts. My email password. Everything.

For the first time in my life I want to hide NOTHING.

Do you know why?

Because I want ALL of you.

I've already seen a lot.

And I want it all.

If I'm going to ask for all of you (and I am), I will give you ALL of me. No questions, no hiding, no secrets.

Do you know how hard that is?

I am … well, for lack of a better word...sorry.

For so long I thought: I could deal with these issues...BUT...well, it might hurt. A lot.

And, well, my life is pretty fucking pleasant. Is it perfect? No! But, who has a perfect life? Look at the shithole where I came from and then look at this...and then... yeah, why fuck that shit up, right?

In 2005, 2012, and 2016, I had moments that were so intense I thought: Now is the time.

But then, the relative comfort set in … and...

I didn't.

Let me say this: I always thought that dealing with this would be terrible, would be ugly, would be unpleasant.

Do you know what's unpleasant? What's terrible?

Meeting you and becoming a part of you and then realizing that THIS is in the way. This "thing" that I've not addressed.

I'm addressing it now. After

It may well be too late for you...and that's fair. But, I'll be a better man in any case.

NOTHING has hurt like realizing that if I'd just done this sometime before August of 2018, I'd have been totally available for you.

NOTHING hurts that bad.

This hurts.

But also: I'm better and stronger now.

You may still be reluctant, skeptical. Or, maybe you've moved on to someone who has conquered his shit or has less shit to start with... ok.

Just know this: I NOW know what love IS.

I will do anything to be the man you saw inside me. ANYTHING. And I will take ALL of you. I know it is not all sunshine and light. I know. I'll give you ALL of me and I'll take ALL of you.

ALL.

I LOVE YOU.

The Sun

For a brief moment, I held the sun.

For a brief moment, the sun held me.

The sun touched me like I'd never been touched.

For so, so many years I'd been guided by the moon.

Just enough light. A light in the darkness.

Sometimes, the moon was big, bright, brilliant...it's light would sustain me for days.

Sometimes, the moon was gone, or barely there. But, it was just enough.

I kept going. Guided by what I thought was the most brilliant light. The light most likely to keep me safe, to guide me home.

Then.

Then one day.

One day, the sun.

The sun shone bright. So bright, at first I didn't even believe it.

This couldn't be real … it couldn't be true.

There's no light like this... no light I can see that's this bright.

Surely, no light this strong can shine on me.

But you did.

You became my sun.

Hot, intense, persistent, constant, brilliant.

And you were there day after day after day as if there were never any clouds.

And as I came to know you, I saw the clouds... the ones you'd never let show … you were always so bright, so brilliant for me.

You were my sun... the essence of my existence .. Your brightness kept me alive, kept me moving forward.

One night, I held you... I held the sun. She held me back, embraced me with a warmth I never knew was possible.

I gave everything to the sun... your light was so bright, you saw all of me.

All of me is still here... Waiting. Waiting for the sun again.

Waiting for what I never knew I needed.

YOU are my sun.

Hot to the touch, painful at times, brilliant, beautiful, essential...

Like all things alive, I need MY sun.

All

All I needed was a text from you.

That's all.

On Thursday night, I saw a shooting star and I wished... I wished you'd be in my life again.

I know there's probably no "us" -- no "forever" no waking up in your arms in the morning again.

I want that … As I've said, I want all of you... and, I've said: The offer is still on the table.

But. Early Saturday morning, while I was asleep, you reached out.

At first, I thought it was a mistake. But, it wasn't, it turns out. Because you reached out again. And we talked.

And … well, I've cried every single day of 2019 until Saturday. Because when I woke up, your name was in my messages. And... it made me smile. And then, we talked and then again, briefly on Sunday.

And it's Wednesday and I still haven't cried.

Here's the thing: You are ALL.

So many years ago, I faced a choice.

There was the one who made me feel safe... made me know that it was going to be ok, that there would be no surprises. We had fun, we laughed, she was a friend.

Then there was the one who made my heart... made it jump. The one who in just one meeting lit my soul on fire.

What to do?

My life had been so chaotic, so unpredictable until then.

Do I go with the soul on fire and risk security? Not knowing exactly what's next …

Or, do I choose the happy friend, the reliable partner, the one who had been there through some pretty crazy shit?

Then, I got a call. A job. An offer. In the same town where the safe choice was already working. Meanwhile, the soul fire choice was moving to a new town and possibly dating someone.

Plus, even if my soul was on fire *right then* that wouldn't last, right?

And when that fire went out, I'd be left wishing I had a friend... security. A reliable partner to build with...

So, I made a choice. A perfectly rational choice. And it was … well, fine. More than fine. Incredible. Until, well, it wasn't. And there was no distant memory of a soul on fire and there was no new fire.

And then...

You.

All.

You made me feel safe... you made me feel comfortable. You let me know it was ok.

AND you lit my soul on fire.

In a way only one other person ever had.

You were... you ARE all.

When the soul fire burns out (though I suspect it won't), we'll both have a friend. Or, so I reasoned.

Actually, I didn't reason at all.

I just remembered her. The last fire starter... and I thought: This may never happen again.

I don't know what's next. Maybe just this. Maybe a text or a call or a coffee every now and then.

I know I love you. And I will always love you.

I know the fire you started inside me is still burning.

I know you make me feel safe.

All I needed was a text from you. A few words.

I want more... I want ALL.

But... as so often was the case, you gave me just what I needed. What I didn't even realize I needed.

All.

Asleep

I was asleep when you called. When you called after sending those two texts. I missed the texts, too.

I was asleep.

My phone on my desk, in the other room.

For so long, I'd get up each morning and hope I'd see a text from you.

Finally, I'd given up. Realizing I'd probably never hear from you again. We MIGHT run into each other, but you certainly weren't going to reach out … and, I didn't know how to.

So, I woke up and saw a missed call from you. And two texts.

All just after midnight.

A mistake, I figured.

You'd been drinking and did something crazy and you were hoping I wouldn't notice or respond.

Nine months.

Nine months since you last messaged me. Nine months since I'd stood in your kitchen.

The last message you sent me made it clear … and I respected that. You weren't mean about it, just clear and direct.

And I love you... and so … I respected your wishes, let you move on.

Two texts and one call and … well, I didn't say anything or respond because, well, because of how it ended before and because if it was a mistake I didn't want to compound it.

And then... another text from you.

And I responded. And you responded.

And for an hour, we talked. Just like we had before.

It was so nice to hear from you … to hear about you … to know what you've been doing and what you will be doing.

After our time texting, I took a shower and went to bed.

I slept harder than I've slept in months.

Yesterday, another brief text exchange.

And last night, I was asleep before 11 and fell into a deep, relaxing, incredible rest.

YES... I want all of you, still.

But... I am thrilled to hear from you … I'm delighted to be in your life, your world in this small way.

If that's all you ever want, I'll be ok.

I'll be more than ok.

You calm me in a way no one ever has.

I was asleep when you texted me... and then called me.

And after we finally talked, I went to sleep.

I don't know how to describe the tremendous release hearing from you gave me.

This sounds... well, it is ..

But, why not? Everything else was … well, strange.

You made me feel... in all the ways.

And, hearing from you... you calmed my soul.

And I was asleep.

St. Emma

Have you been saved?

It's a common refrain in the South, especially among those who attend evangelical churches... so many times, people ask: have you been saved?

As someone who grew up in a Southern Baptist Church, I know what this means... and I understand the urgency of the question. Of course, if you haven't been saved, you're going to hell. Because you are lost. And you can only get saved if you acknowledge you are lost and need God. Then, you pray. Then, God decides to save you when you've prayed enough or reached the end of yourself or whatever.

But, you get saved. Or, you say you got saved. Then, you get baptized.

That's it. Then, you're good to go. No matter what. After you've been saved, it can't be taken away. Not by anyone. Not by anything you do. You're saved. So, you're in... you're going to heaven... and all the fuckers who won't yet admit they are lost are just shit out of luck and they'll be in hell, eventually.

Unless, of course, they get saved.

So, I have this childhood salvation story. About crying during spiritual songs at camp and crying in my room and crying and praying until I "felt right."

But here's the real story: I HAVE been saved.

I was saved by Emma.

Yes. That's her name. Emma.

Funny enough, we had this whole joke about her being "St. Emma" because she'd been ordained online and was all set to marry her mom to this dude ..

She'd wear a black bishop's robe and these delightful Louboutin heels... and she'd be fabulous (and tall as fuck, b/c she's 5'10" anyway)…

The summer before I met Emma, I almost died. I almost killed myself, to be precise. It was this vision...but it was so very close to being real. The gun in my sock drawer.

I'd felt so numb for so long. I'd felt nothing. Then, this ever-present darkness.

It was... well, better after that day. The day of the crying and the thoughts of the gun. But, the darkness was still there.

I hadn't laughed or cried or felt … well, anything for so long.

And then.

Emma.

The very first message she sent made me laugh out loud. Not like (lol) but like … I LAUGHED. I didn't just smile that quiet, knowing smile or slightly move my lips or let my eyes be the only thing that showed. I fucking laughed.

A good start, to be sure.

And then, she kept on. She made me laugh again and again and again.

And she made me think.

She challenged me.

She pushed me.

I hadn't felt like this in … forever.

I hadn't felt... in such a long time.

And we talked and we laughed and we talked...and we finally met... and she embraced me and I embraced her and she was warm and smelled like heaven and she was all the things I'd seen in her messages.

And she let me take her home... well, give her a ride home. And I laughed in the car with her and she laughed and … WE laughed and she got distracted and lost her keys in my car... and came back and smiled... and OMG.

And then there was the trip .. she went with me on a trip. Yeah, I had work and she, well, she didn't. So, she rested and relaxed and visited a family member who lived where we were going.

And... and... and... I experienced something I NEVER had before. A truly intimate encounter with another human.

I let go...and she let go...and I wanted her and she wanted me...

And... we each gave all …

And... it was all the things I'd dreamed of and written about and thought of... forever.

With her.

And I couldn't believe … couldn't believe this was happening. That SHE was choosing me.

Again and again and again she chose me.

And... in the back of a Lyft on the way to the airport I cried... in front of her, I cried. And she cried...and we cried. Together … and I've never done that before.

And... we got back and our lives faced reality...

And... we kept on and on...

And then... well, it was just too much, all of it, she said.

But...I'd already been saved by then.

St. Emma saved me.

Yes, she moved on... more souls need her touch.

Not being in the realm of her light hurts...it does.

But, I'm a better man because I knew her...because she held me.

I WAS saved.

I've cried, I've laughed, I've screamed.... I've felt an entire range of emotions.

My heart … closed for oh so many years … it opened.

I feel EVERYTHING... which, well, it's a lot.

But it's fucking wonderful.

St. Emma SAVED me.

And I'll never be the same... when they say, "once saved, always saved." they aren't fucking kidding.

I may never, ever, ever be with St. Emma again... but I'm saved... I'm strong, powerful, amazing...and I'm ready to be the man I need to be, can be, should be...

I'm ready for the one who can take all of me... and I will take all of her.

Do I wish that was Emma? Hell yes.

Will I be ready and willing and able for the woman is ready and willing and able to take all of me? YES!

I'm saved.

And forever grateful to St. Emma.

I promise

I promise, her dad said when she was 9 and they took him away the first time... I promise I'll be back, I promise this won't happen again.

I promise, he told her when he was taken away again and he couldn't be there for the Daddy/Daughter dance.

I promise, he said when she went off to college and he was working and things looked good... I promise it will be ok this time.

I promise, he said, when he declared bankruptcy, again... and she had to leave school and go home and transfer and get a job and live with her mom.

I promise, he said, I'll make it right as he stopped taking his medicine and found a way back into jail.

I promise, her first boyfriend...her first true love -- had said … I promise you're the only one for me. I promise, he told her, as he went to the hospital to watch his child being born...the child his other girlfriend was having.

I promise, he said... I can be committed to you now, well, you and the baby from another woman...

I promise, the new guy said, everything is fine...

I promise, he told her, she's from work....

I promise, he said... I'll NEVER cheat again

I promise, the next guy... the kinda weird one... I promise this is all ok...

I promise, he'd told her... and then the FBI showed up and asked questions and he was gone.

I promise, said the new roommate/potential boyfriend said. I promise I'll take care of things... I'll do my part.

I promise, he'd said, after he hit her the first time, I promise I won't lose my temper again.

I promise, he said, after the beating so bad she called 911. I promise I'll get it right.


I promise, I said, as I stood in her kitchen.

I promise, I'll deal with this.

No, there was no secret baby. There was nothing on my phone she couldn't see.

Yes, I'd been open... more open than I'd ever been.

Yes, I'd let her touch me... and I'd touched her.

I'd never yelled at her, never hit her, never even been angry... and she knew I never would be, not like that.

There was no "missing money" or secret life or big surprise coming ahead.

But. Well, there was (is) this one thing.

And... I needed to deal with it.

I promise, I said... as I stood in her kitchen. Stood looking at the only woman who'd ever made me feel whole.

I promise, I'll do this.

She said... I need time. Need to think. I'm processing.

Then, she stepped away.

I was one more man standing in front of her making a promise.

She walked away... and I've kept that promise.

I'm one million times better than I was that night I left her apartment.

I'm stronger, I'm healthier, I'm cleaner...

I promised.

And she basically said: Shut up and show me.

Here I am, I'll say. Here I am, when I see her next.

I'm that man. The one you saw... the amazing man who can do anything. That's what you said.

I promised. I delivered. And I'll do it over and over and over again for you.

I won't give you words, I'll SHOW you with all of my being.

Yes...yes, I'm going to mess up, make a mistake.

But... I'm going to give you ALL of me every day without you having to ask.

I promise.

Jenny and Ariel

I know … I know … I know.

It's a lot.

So, first … I didn't choose those parents. I didn't ask for that.

Second, YES … I'm now a 44-year-old adult and I make choices. Not acting is a choice. I was 43 when we met. I'd spent a lifetime making choices or choosing to ignore.

I DID THAT. I CHOSE TO IGNORE IT.

For a long, long, long time that seemed the best path.

Frankly, there was no one I met who I felt was worth the effort of dealing with it.

Interestingly (ironically?) I'd just started seeing a therapist when we met. So, I was finally ready to do something.

I didn't ask to be hit every single day. I didn't ask for her to hold me in her arms and tell me she loved me after I was crying so hard and in physical pain. I didn't ask for her to scream at me and ask me why I was crying after she'd hit me until I couldn't move. I didn't ask for all the screaming. I didn't ask to be told over and over and over again: "something's wrong with you."

I didn't ask for the ER visit where the doctor asked my parents to leave the room … and then asked me what happened. I didn't ask to wear long pants to school on 90 degree days so no one could see the bruises.

And I sure as hell didn't ask for that night when I was 13 and I found out what he'd been doing.

I didn't ask for the lesson of shutting the fuck up and pushing my feelings down.

I didn't ask to learn that not feeling anything and not showing emotion was the best way to get out without a scratch... literally. I didn't ask to find out that the person who seemed like he was helping was stealing … from me.

And... I know what I experienced isn't even the worst.. I've seen and met and taught and dealt with kids who faced far greater … challenges.

Jenny's mom told her that I couldn't come over and study Spanish b/c of my family... b/c it was a mess...b/c it was not a good idea to get involved with that.

I was 14.

Ariel screamed at me on the phone one night and said all the "stuff" with my mom and dad, it was just too much.

And so... fuck it, I just wouldn't show all of it. I wouldn't cry in front of anyone...

Sure, I met Monica.

And I wanted Monica and she wanted me.

But... well, I'd learned my damn lesson.

And I didn't want to hurt her.

So. We were friends...until … well, she died... after I'd know her for 8 years.

And so... yeah, I learned this: That feeling … THAT  feeling... well, fuck it. It's pointless. It's NOT for me.

So, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that fucked up shit happened.

And I'm sorry I waited to really deal with it.

And I'm sorry I didn't stop you...

And … I'm beyond sorry if I hurt you in any way.

I can take a lot.

I can.

And … well, NOTHING hurts like not having you.

I'd take 100 more nights of her hitting me for one more night with you...

This. … This IS pain.

And … you … you are the only person who made me care enough to even deal with it.

Yeah, I was seeing a therapist as we met... but … well, after YOU, all I wanted was to have been that "amazing" man from the very first day you saw me.

And...well, I know I'll fuck up somehow.

I try... and with you, I'd try with 100% every single day...

But.

All of me … is here. For all of you.

I Stood in Your Kitchen

I stood in your kitchen...

You were on the counter.

Sitting, your blonde hair flowing over your shoulders.

I told you.

I told you everything.

I'd already told you a lot.

But that night, I told it all.

I knew what might happen.

Frankly, I would probably have done the same if someone said those words to me.

But -- here's the deal. I loved you. I LOVE you still. And so, I told you all.

For us to go further, you needed to know. You'd probably find out anyway. At some point.

I've gone over that night again and again and again. And again.

And I could have pretended. I could have said different words. I could have made another move and we could have ended up in bed.

But I wasn't after your body or your sex or just being touched... I wanted (still want, btw) ALL of you.

And if I was going to ask for all of you, I was going to show you all of me.

And so I did.

I stood in your kitchen and I told you. I gave you the whole picture. ALL of me.

And you touched me (I don't let anyone touch me) … and you said you needed to process.

Yes, some things happened to me that I couldn't control.

And, then, my response.

I made those choices.

I made them... no one else chose to keep hiding and keeping secrets and locking away my heart. I made those choices. I did it.

And guess what?

The man who made those choices... that's the one you met. The one who thought you'd be another pleasant distraction on the way toward wherever.

I'm the man you said was "amazing."

I'm the one you said was the first to understand you.

I'm the one you hugged the first time we met.

I'm the one shared true intimacy with...

Yes, THAT guy.

The same one … the one who experienced those things. The one who made THOSE decisions.

In fact, I'd say it was those experiences, those decisions...that allowed me to love you.

I stood in your kitchen and I gave you ALL of me. ALL.

I didn't know how it would work out... I didn't know what path we would follow... none of it made sense.

But, I love you.

So. I told you. In your kitchen.

How many men will stand in your kitchen and admit to everything... will tell you everything... will put ALL of themselves out there?

NONE.

Well, there ARE a few, maybe.

Most men in my position that night would have been thinking about other things. Or playing games... or hiding the reality for as long as they could.

But I'd already showed you a lot of me. And you deserved to know it all.

If you can find a man who will give you more … and, truly, I hope you do... I want nothing more than to know you are happy.

But. You won't. It's not likely.

I told you 100% … I told you all -- I WILL still give you all of me.

I'm not perfect. And I own my flaws... at least for you. I've never really wanted to tell anyone else.

But, I LOVE you. And so I respect you enough to say it all.

And, here's the thing... You're not perfect, either.

And I'll take it. ALL of you.

You want to come home and cry in my arms and not tell me why? OK!

You want me to order us food and tell you funny stories so you don't have to think about it? OK!

You want me to go upstairs and read while you "think?" YES!

You want to drive with me all night and turn the music up and just scream? OK!

Here's the deal...

I know about the others... the ones who came before.

And I know what you'll probably find.

The next guy and the one after that. The ones who will stand in your kitchen and lie to you so they can have one more night in your arms. The ones who hope you never find out. The ones with secrets and lies and "other" lovers.

The ones who are angry, and take it out on you.

You might...maybe … in 100 years find a man who will give you more than I will.

And again, truly, I hope you do... I hope you find him and you're happy and you're smiling and you're safe.

But know this: I stood in your kitchen and offered you a rare gift.

You don't have to want it. I know that's not how it works.

I know it would have been a lot to go through these last months with me...and even then, there'd be more. Believe me, I know.

And yes, selfishly, I want you to want it.

But, I want it for you  -- I want you to have someone who is sold out for you … who is willing to stand in your kitchen and put YOU first and tell the truth and not hide and not play games and not keep secrets...

The one who will stand open for you today and every single day.

I stood in your kitchen and offered you all of me …

That offer is still on the table …

One year later ...

I wish the first text you had sent me had been on Labor Day 2019.

I wish the first time you'd invited me to your apartment, it was September 19, 2019.

I wish our first coffee was in the late fall of 2019.

I wish we'd planned our trip for late November of 2019.

I wish I hadn't yet held your hand at a ballet.



You see, I'm a better man now.

I'm fully ready.

In a way I wasn't just one year ago.


I won't say I've conquered everything. I'm still working, will always be working.

But instead of running away, I'm taking on. Confronting.


Here's the thing: My motivation to take these things on is YOU.

Sure, you moved on … and, wisely so.

But. Had I not seen you, known you, been with you, I would have never thought YOU were possible. Not for me.

You loved me .. you really, truly loved me. You loved me enough to let me go because you knew that's what I needed.

None of what happened between us made any sense.

Not those first texts, not the coffee, not the trip, not your apartment, … none of it.

Both of us had to suspend rational thought to keep moving forward.

But we both wanted each other.

And neither of us wanted it to stop.

And, in our minds, we both knew it couldn't be more.

Not then.

Now, though, it can.

And I don't even know how to start.

What do I say?

Do I just call?

There's a history now. There's a "last night." A "last text." And there's … all this time.

Maybe someone is making you smile -- I do hope so.

Maybe there's someone who is ready for the best me. The one you saw.

If so, she'll owe you.

And … if you were just a way to prepare me for something even more amazing, thank you.

And … if you were just a moment of brightness in a typical existence, thank you.

And … thank you for texting me one year ago. For inviting me one year ago. For our trip, for our time, for our love.

Love begins with respect. You respected me enough to let me go when you knew that's what I needed.

You respected me enough to learn me... and not to walk away when you started hearing the reality.

You respected me enough to hold me and not ask questions.

Still … I dream of a world where we meet today … for the first time, and you know the best me … and that's the one you fall in love with and that's the one who takes you out and that's the one forever.

I love you. And, I may never love like this again.

So, thank you … for moving my life forward.

In the Car

I got in my car today. To go to the store. And this song came on.

Here:

Like the memory from your mother's house
From before you got too old
Like the feeling from a photograph
Before it's meanings all got told
The words I say can be silver
But what's left unsaid can be gold
So get to know me once I go away
Maybe 'cause I come from such an empty-hearted town
Or maybe 'cause some love of mine had really let me down
But the only time I am lonely is when others are around
I just never end up knowing what to say
If I wanted someone to clean me up
I'd find myself a maid
If I wanted someone to spend my money
I wouldn't need to get paid
If I wanted someone to understand me
I'd have so much more to say
I want you to make the days move easy
I took everything I thought from what it means to be a man
We need words to be put to what we do not understand
While you lean into the echoes and you do not raise a hand
Oh woman, help me see it like it is
If I wanted someone to clean me up
I'd find myself a maid
If I wanted someone to spend my money
I wouldn't need to get paid
If I wanted someone to understand me
I'd have so much more to say
I want you to make the days move easy
If I wanted someone to clean me up
I'd find myself a maid
If I wanted someone to spend my money
I wouldn't need to get paid
If I wanted someone to cut me down
I'd have handed you the blade
I want you to make the days move easy
I just want you to make the days move easy 

This is ALL I wanted. ALL I want.

Some days, you'd text two or three times. And that'd be it.

And... it made the days move easy.

I knew... I knew everyday there'd be words from you.

All the rest.. all of it... it was more than I could ever have imagined.

I never thought anyone... certainly not you...

I never thought that was for me.

I just needed you to make the days move easy.

I don't know if you ever really understood …

Just sitting across the table from you … just looking into your eyes...

It took everything away.

That... that you wanted more... surprised and thrilled me.

I wanted more every single time I saw you...

 But I didn't want to ruin … what we had.

I wanted the days to move easy.

I could sit in your apartment and work all day knowing you were there... and the days would move easy

I don't … didn't... still don't … expect you to understand it all. Or make it go away.

I just... I want you to make the days move easy.

I know... I know because you told me... I made your days move easy.

I don't need any more than that.

I don't need to be deep in your mind... I don't need you to be 13 again.

I need to just be there.

To be the one who is "so positive and encouraging."

I won't ask questions. You can tell me what you want.

In your presence, every single minute is pure joy.

I once told you that all I wanted was to be with you... all the time.

You said, "You'll change your mind."

But... well, I won't. I haven't.

Because I don't need all the extras.

If I glanced over and you were there... If I saw your face... If I caught your smile. If I saw you bending down to pull out a drink from the refrigerator. If you touched me as you passed me by.

The warmth of your skin.

I don't even think you know it.

Or, you won't admit it.

Your power.

Everything is ok when I'm with you … when I was with you.

And... well, for so long, nothing was ok.

And it certainly wasn't ok to not be ok.

But.

All I needed... was someone to make the days move easy.

And... for the first time, they did. For the only time in my life, they did.

You were quiet, private, careful. And you made me laugh, smile, relax.

I let it down... let you know.

You made the days move easy.

Until.

Until I said the words that made you think I wanted more.

Yes: I want ALL of you. When you're ready.

But... what I want most... from now until forever … is YOU -- to make the days move easy.

No one's ever done that for me. It seems like no one else ever will.

Thank you, Dawes, for writing these words...

I Sold the Gun in May

I sold the gun in May.

It was a gift. From a relative. Someone who said "every man needs a gun."

A Smith & Wesson .38.

I don't know much about guns, but I knew how to use that one.

It sat in my sock drawer.

Unloaded.

Bullets outside in the garage.

There was that day.

That day in June over a year ago.

All I could see was loading the gun and pointing it to my head and everything over in a second.

All of it.

I didn't do it.

I'm still here.

Almost exactly two months from that day, I met you.

And … the dark friend was still there.

But, I didn't even think about the gun.

Until.

Until you were gone.

On our second date, you asked me how...how would I commit suicide?

Funny you should ask, I thought. I'd just been thinking about it. Every fucking day.

But when I was next to you, I couldn't see or hear or think about anything else.

And that was just the second date.

The longest consecutive time I've been happy in my entire life came in that short time I was with you.

Everything else was a moment, nothing longer than a single day.

Then you.

I thought. A year ago or so … that the worst thing in the world was feeling nothing at all.

Was being so numb that nothing felt like anything. I wasn't angry or sad or tired or happy or anything.

I begged to feel, to cry, to hurt, to … anything.

Now. Now I know pain.

NOTHING has hurt like this.

It's … well, it's my fault. I'm an adult. I could have gotten help earlier. Or chosen to respond in a different way.

There were times... in 2012 and again in 2016 -- where I felt like I should do "something."

But, I reasoned, why? There was nothing else... no one else. This was as good as it was going to be … so. Why?

Then … you.

And … and I would give up every single second I ever felt happy for one more minute in your presence.

As much as I desperately want you in my life in every single way... here's what I want: I want to know you are OK. I want a text every now and then. I want to see you in my messages.

I dream... I dream of touching you or looking into your eyes one more time.

But. I'm used to not having it all. I'm used to just a little bit.

And... well, I REALLY loved you. I really LOVE you.

I know I've never truly loved before because nothing has ever hurt like this.

Being numb. Being dead to the world. It hurts.  It hurts …

But … this.  This world without you.

NOTHING has hurt like this.

So, I sold the gun in May.

That's the easiest way.

And I'm scared of heights, so a bridge or building is out.

So, I'm here.

Alive.

Sad.

And I'll be here.

Because I sold the gun in May.

One Year Ago

One year ago. One year ago tomorrow -- 9/19.

One year ago.

You invited me to your place.

Asked me for drinks.

Sent me a picture.

I wanted to so so badly.

To see you. To finally hear your voice. To meet your dog.

But I said no.

I said "it's probably not a good idea."

Because I knew.

I knew … even then.. even a few weeks in to knowing you .. I knew how I felt. I knew how you'd respond … because I'd seen others fall for it. The kindness, the mystery, the warmth.

And I liked you.

So I didn't want you to get into all of it... all of me.

I knew: "Every shipwrecked soul knows what it is to live without intimacy."

I knew I couldn't. And you deserved someone who could.

I could have. I could have come over. I could have held you. I could have been inside you.

But I knew what would happen.

So I didn't.

And... I thought that'd make you stop.

But you didn't.

You kept on...and on and on.

Persistent like I am.

And I didn't stop you.

Because in a day full of shit, one text from you could make me smile.

So I didn't. I kept on.

I knew it didn't make sense, but we were only texting.

Until we weren't. Until we met. Until coffee. Until the trip.

Until you had me over. Until that night. Until you stopped.

Like I knew you would.

Because of me.

I'm crying. So hard. Right now.

Every day.

I should have stopped a year ago. When you invited me.

And... and if you are hurting at all.... if what we had (and lost) causes you one ounce of pain... I'm sorry.

You were the first...the only... the one who told me it was ok to not be ok.

I'm sorry I wasn't ready... for me, yes. For you, of course... because I know who and what is out there. And it sucks. Bad.

And I … I would give you all. And ask nothing but your presence in my life in return.

I should have gone, I guess... and fucked you and been like everyone else.

But that's not right. At all.

So.

I'm glad. I'm glad you invited me.

I'm glad I said no.

I'm glad you kept on.

I'm glad we met.

I have NEVER in my life felt so much joy.

Sure, when I die...at 67 or 83 or 98 … it will seem like only one minute.

But I am more thankful for that one minute with you than you can ever know.

I just called

I'm not going to even get into how you ended up texting me one night just as I was finishing a walk.

The whole thing is so bizarre, so... well, unbelievable.

I wondered over and over again how you knew...

You'd say things...and I'd think: "Is she inside my house?"

How did you get into my head.

And then I realized...our minds are the same... they work the same way.

That … that NEVER happens. Hasn't happened.

And... well, we texted. And I smiled. And my darkness left and a bright light came into me and I still hadn't met you.

Until that night.

When you sent me … you know what you sent me.

And... and... I knew.

The person with that mind. The person who did THAT... I had to meet her. Had to meet you.

I knew it didn't make sense. None of it did. Meeting you seemed...well, unlikely. And then, what?

Still.

We texted back and forth. Half-arranged meetings...

"tomorrow after my event?" "sure"

Didn't happen.

"Can I bring you a coffee?" "Yes!"

No

On and on.

And then... we finally set a firm time. A firm date. A real place. A DATE. I had a DATE with you.

Nothing had really made sense since that first night of your text...so, well, ok. We had a DATE.

I didn't even sleep the night before. I just imagined sitting across from you. Your eyes on mine.

Hearing your voice...I'd never even heard your voice.

I got out of bed early. And you'd already texted me. I knew... I was going to meet HER...meet YOU.

Back and forth, laughing, smiling...

I'm on the way.

And.... you can't. Well, you could, but … well, could we later?

And I'm all: Ok, sure...it's fine.

And rearrange my day.

And later comes...and no word from you.

And later... and then I text and then you say nothing...and then finally

Sorry...you can't.

You can't

Which to me means you won't...aren't going to.

You know enough.

Of course you won't

I wouldn't.

I'd want to, but I wouldn't...not if I had been you

And then you're sorry... and I'm ...well, angry.

But I tell you it's ok

I don't want to lose you completely.

Those words on an illuminated screen have kept me going... I can't lose that.

And we text and it's just like it was. Like the entire day I had planned for and rearranged for and had cancelled...not once, but twice...like it never even happened.

And … I thought, maybe, maybe, maybe...if I call she'll say yes and actually do it. You'll say yes..

Plus, I'll hear her voice.

I hate the phone.

I've called one other woman EVER in my life for a date. Just once.

But, I call. I take a shot of bourbon, and I call. And you don't answer and there's no voicemail.

This is days later, by the way. When I can't stand it anymore.

If there's 1/10 of 1% of a chance you'll say yes, then...ok, ok, I'll call. Even then, maybe you won't show up...but, if the words come out of your mouth, I'm betting you will.

So, I called. And you didn't answer. But you called back. 10 minutes, 20, 45, and I ask. And you say yes. Tomorrow. The next day. I'll see you tomorrow...

And tomorrow comes and you text me and I text you and we confirm all details and I drive and you arrive and YOU arrive and we hug like we've been friends for 100 years.

And you arrive.

And you arrive.

And it's like in the movies and there's the light and I can't believe it and I smile and I smile and my heart jumps

And I held you... and we hugged and …

We talk and we talk and we talk and we talk

And I take you home and we laugh and I haven't laughed in so long haven't really, truly laughed.

and, well, the rest... the rest...

From that day on... the longest period of complete happiness in my life. EVER

Yes, it ended. I said the words...you made it stop.

But. I just called.

Took that tiny chance.

And you said YES … even though by then you knew enough... even though I knew it probably couldn't be... if I could just SEE you ...just once.

And it was more than once and it was heaven and I will never forget … and I hope you smile when you think of it... I hope you smile inside when you think of our brief time...our one minute together.

I just called.

99

So, there's this.

If … if a friend of mine came to me and described the situation … from HER perspective...

Here's what I would say:

I would say -- yes, he IS amazing. I'm sure. Yes, he CAN be more amazing.

But.  99 times out of 100 this is NOT going to turn out well. It's just not.

You two are great now. You MIGHT be great in some distant future.

And the path there... well, if you're up for a lot of pain and hurt and disruption and things that are unsettling, ok. But even then, the likely outcome is not great.

So. I'd let go now. Before you get too deep. Before it ends up hurting both of you too badly.

Yes, it will hurt. And yes, he will hurt.

But... one very real possibility is that being in your world, in your orbit, distracts him. Keeps him from doing what needs to be done. And then you're a year or two years in and he hasn't dealt with it and now you are or it's not happening or it's all going bad.

If you let him go, he'll want to feel like he did with you.

He'll have a reason to do this.

And so, in a year or two years when you see him again... maybe he'll look at you and be this amazing man you can see inside.

And maybe then you'll still have these feelings for him.

Sure, there's a tiny chance...maybe better than 1%, that he'll do all of this WHILE you two  are together.

But, probably not.

So, the only question is... a little bit of pain now or a world of hurt later?

Let him go. You love him. He needs you to let him go so he can finish.

I write this to say: I understand. I do.

It hurts more than anything ever has... and I've had a lot happen and I've done a lot of stupid things.

But, she was right. For her. And, well, for me.

It only makes me love her more.

The only (and best) thank you I can give to her is to be that man...the one she saw.

And I will.

I wish we hadn't met ...

I read this yesterday and it struck me... it hit me hard:

I wish we had never met. But only so I could have the opportunity to meet you again, being better now than I was before. To have an opportunity with no preconceptions to again gain your affection, and this time, keep it. That would be a prayer answered.

I think often of how we met. How it didn't make any sense.

And I think I'd give anything to have made different choices... to have dealt with issues BEFORE that day we met.

But I also know that the series of choices I made put me in that place. That different choices would have opened different doors and closed others. That the sum of my experiences (and yours) put us in a place where we could meet.

Still, I long to have been more ready … completely ready … for what I found in you.

One time before, 20 years ago, I felt *that feeling* and I let her go. That feeling that makes my heart race, that lights my soul. It didn't make any sense at all then. And I knew, I knew where I was and what she would probably say when she knew it all. And, well, I just wasn't willing, wasn't ready. I wanted that feeling, but it didn't make sense.

Exactly 20 years later, I met you.

And it didn't make sense. At all.

And I knew all the things I knew then.

I have met people all over the country, from around the world. I've been excited, aroused, amazed, and impressed by them. Attracted to, become lovers with...

But only one other time has someone made me feel like that.

I can't really describe it.

The best I can do is this: With you, I felt both fully comfortable and on the verge of losing control.

This time, I wasn't going to let go.

It didn't make sense, but I didn't care...

I wasn't going to make that mistake again. There you were, willing, ready, encouraging. And I couldn't figure out a path forward - there we were, happy, fun, smiling -- and I could see a future -- just no clear path to get there.

But I wasn't going to deny my heart. Not again. So, I gave it all to you.

You were right, by the way. I am amazing. I don't know how you saw that given where I was at the time. But you did. And you told me over and over and over again.

I've become better, stronger... I've confronted and taken on and challenged... And I won't stop.

No matter what... I will be the man you saw. Because that is who I am. It's who I was so many years ago before I got lost.

I can't think of anything to repay the tremendous gift you gave me. I would do anything, anything at all for you -- and I'm certain you know that.

But I will honor you this way: I will prove you right. I will do all the things, the hard things, to be the best me. This is my thank you to you.

You know how tenuous that path is... how many chances to fall -- but I won't. The thought that I may one day see you again will drive me on. Because on that day, if it comes, I want to look at you and say: "You were right. Thank you."

One more thing: I know I wasn't fully ready. I understand exactly why you let me go.

But, know this:

I saw all of you -- your darkness, your pain, your hunger... and I would take it all. I would give all of me for all of you.

I can tell you that's a rare gift. And it's here... I'm here.

More than anything, though, I want to know you are happy.

If I knew you were smiling, my heart would sing.