Date: Wed, 19 Feb 2003 14:25:41 EST
From: alphtheta@aol.com
Subject: A letter to Nate
Dear Readers,
First the disclaimers...
1. If you are just looking for a hot fuck story that goes somewhere
along the lines of "We meet, he looked good, I looked good, we fucked
all night long. The end." Then, this story isn't for you at all.
2. I'm writing this story for myself, the therapeutic uses of writing
and so that maybe if there are indeed some nice, real, intelligent
people out there, they can actually know a part of me that few ever
know.
3. This story is about me, my past and other various things about me.
Which may include my various view points on some issues which may or
may not rub you the wrong way. Please do NOT e-mail me to argue about
this; this is just what I think and feel, you're an individual who is
entitled to his/her own opinions, let me have my opinions too,
please?
4. If you are in any part offended, disgusted, or am simply weirded out
by romantic acts between guys, please don't read any farther, you'll
just be making it bad for yourself.
5. Submitted to the Archieves under required guidelines. The Author
maintains all creative licenses and all copyrights.
Okay, now that I've properly covered my own ass...
____________________________________________________________________________
John Y. YYYYYY
XXX XX (Street name),
(City name), CA ZZZZZ-ZZZZ
Febuary 19, 2003
Nathaniel X. XXXXXXXXXX
XXX (Street Name),
(City Name), CA ZZZZZ-ZZZZ
Dear Nate,
As of right now, I'm listening to the song, "by your side" by Sade.
We had listened to this song while we drove around the mountains and
valleys of San Gregory one long night, do you remember? I distinctive
remember your hand on mine and I remember feeling so warm then. It
felt like I was finally safe, like I had finally found someone I can
lean on, only that this someone will lean on me, when he needs my
strength. Someone who could care for me the way I care for them. That
you saw the good in me, just as I saw the good in you.
It's been 18 months since I've allowed myself to listen to this song.
Because every time I listen to it, the memories of that and every
night we've shared comes back and I want to cry. I want to cry so
hard that I can cry all the memories out of me. So that I wouldn't
have to long for you the way that I do. I want to cry for what we
had, for what we could have now and for what I wish we could have in
the future: Nice house in the suburbs, a small SUV or two (Since
those seem to be less oil guzzling. But, I could be wrong about
that.), a pack of German shepherds and Shih Tzu puppies and most
importantly, each other. You with your technophile gadgets and me
with my pack rat tendencies. We could live comfortably, if not
messily. Heh. I can imagine us getting into silly arguments about
trash day and puppy training. Romantic dates involving the ocean and
picnics on our anniversaries and if we get lucky enough, children.
You would make a great father, I think. Once you're ready, that is.
For the past 18 months, I've been asking myself one central question:
Did I do something wrong, or not good enough, when we were together?
See, I couldn't figure why we had ever broken up. Because in my eyes,
you were perfect then. And you're still perfect now. But, I know that
this may not be true, as I tend to see only who you could be, not who
you are. I know that when it comes to you, I am essentially blind if
I don't suppress my own emotions with logic. After our talk the other
night, I had not only figured out that it wasn't so much my fault,
but I had figured out why I love you so: You remind me of me.
Age-wise and professionally, you're my big brother, yet something
about you makes you so innocent and vulnerable that all I want to do
is protect you. You're an artist, yet you have a sense of technical
and philosophical wisdom about you. The affectionate attitudes
towards all and everyone you liked. Everything about you complimented
parts of me, right down to our flaws: Our high self-esteem paired
conflicting low self-confidence. Our insecurities regarding loyalty.
Our self doubts. And most importantly, our condition of being in love
with love. In my eyes, our lights and our darkness all matched each
other so perfectly.
I'm happy that we're finally speaking again. I don't know why, but a
part of me says that you need me. You need a friend. Yet, for me, it
takes me a lot to be your friend. I try to ignore all my own opinions
and bias when I speak to you, because that's the only way I can be a
friend. Otherwise, whenever I hear about your hook-up and your other
relationships, it cuts into a part of me that wish you were mine,
because I love you. I love the way you smell. I love the way you
would lick your CDs to clean them. I love the way you would get
annoyed at the top button of your shirt because it wouldn't button,
then get slightly pouty when you accidentally break the button off. I
love the way you would pounce on your dog, Brock and wrestle with
him, as you cooed "who's my baby?" at him. I love the way you would
dove under your covers after a shower, just to be a cute lazy bum and
to keep warm. My God, I don't know how many things I love about you.
And it's hard to let you go.... To just be a friend.
Actually, at this point I should point out that I haven't got the
slightly idea if you would ever get to read this letter. All in all,
it is probably unlikely. If I ever showed you this, if would have to
be either a long time down the road, or after we're no longer
friends. Mostly, I'm just writing this letter because if I don't do
it now, I would never be able to express any of this and it would
continue to haunt me as it has done so for the past 18 months.
Yesterday, I had spent the day thinking about us, as I went through
the motions of my daily chores. I thought about things logically as I
got groceries from Costco, I felt about things emotionally when I was
having coffee in Burlingame and I talked to friends about all of
this. None of it brought me any real insight into any of it, except
for what I already know: That I am still in love with you, but for
the moment I could only be a friend.... Because you're in rebound
mode. Because there's a good chance that you no longer see me that
way. And most importantly, because you are succumbing to the the
addiction of being in love with love, while I've done all I can to
control and repel my addiction.
You know as well as I do that being in love with love is like a
cancer. When you have no object of affection, it fills you up with so
much love and care that you feel like you would burst. Yet, when you
are in a relationship that's stabilizing, it makes you feel as if
something is missing and you are quite hollow; the only time when we
are content is when the relationships are starting. When it's all
about the other person. When it's like Romeo and Juliet. People who
have this "disease" thrive on the passion, the thrall and the power
which comes with budding relationships. It's not about love. Not
about settling down, but all about the pleasures of being in a
relationship can give us. Most likely, this is due to the fact that
society sees the success of a relationship as a value indicator and
us, having self-confidence issues, seeks the validation this way.
But, just like cigarettes, one can't just be happily drunk in all of
this without a price. The price we pay is our hearts, our trust and
our sanity.
It's taken me seven long years and five painful break-ups to realize
that I had an issue. That I was in love with love itself as a notion
and I couldn't stay like that. That there was NOTHING in this world
that could satisfy the hunger inside me. The hunger for love and
validation will eat, eat and keep on eating until either I was gone
as a person, or until I couldn't take it anymore and commits suicide.
So, I decided to take control and managed to maintain an order
against the darkness inside me. How? Mostly it was just a lot of
self-reflection and focusing on my strengths, instead of my weakness.
Also, a lot of logic and rationality. There was some ignoring and
burying as well. Nevertheless, I was and still am in love with love,
even as we speak now. I won't lie to you; I don't know if it's
possible to get rid of this thing. It is a part of ourselves. But,
like any disease, you can learn to cope with it quite well. On good
days, I even forget about it completely. Until I go to bed and my
thoughts move to you.
18 months ago, when I found out that you had cheated with David and
that you were getting into a relationship with him, part of me saw
red. Especially when you claimed that you and me were nothing but
friends. And that as a friend I should be happy for you that you had
found someone who cared about you. All I wanted to do was to go to
your house, blow up and just... do something. Anything at all,
really. Essentially, what David did two weeks ago, when you two broke
up. You had no idea how much I wanted to tell your mother about us
when I went to get my books. But, I didn't. I couldn't. I loved you
so much that I knew if I did, it would cause you pain. And I would
rather being drawn and quartered then to have you feel any pain as a
result of my actions. And I hate that you have to feel the darkness
just as I do. Believe me- If I could, I would gladly take that from
you. All I've ever wanted ever since falling for you is for you to be
happy. True love is about doing the right thing for the person you
love, no matter how much it may hurt you. That's why I let you go 18
months ago without much fanfare. I spent months picking up the phone
and dial the first 6 numbers, then hanging up. Afraid that if I
called, I would cause you pain due to frictions between you and
David. By the way, I'm sorry that you two have broken up. (No,
actually, I really AM sorry. I'm not being sarcastic, promise!) I
know he made you happy. But you have to understand, your happiness
can only shine through the murk of "being in love with love" if you
let it. Only you can make yourself happy.
No, love really isn't about the passion, the heat and the
butterflies, Nate. It's about how much you care for the person as
your best friend and how much you're willing to take on for them. No,
it's not the "Romeo and Juliet" kind of love. The Romeo and Juliet
stuff is great, but it's not eternal. Why? Because of time. As we
age, everything goes. The bodies, the jobs, the, the hair, the
technologies, the shoes, everything; they all go. At the end of the
our lives, the best you can hope to find is someone who doesn't annoy
you, you're mildly attracted to and you wouldn't mind having be your
best friend for a long, long time. (Essentially, it's like the Adam
Sandler song, "I'll grow old with you.")
Anyway, I've blubbered on long enough. I think I'm going to go take
care of my puppies and then get a nice shower in. Hopefully, I'll
have enough time to get a cup of coffee too. Have a good day,
Nathaniel.
Love,
John.
____________________________________________________________________________
If you have any comments, feel free to email me: ALPHTHETA@AOL.COM