Saturday, February 9, 2008

Missing Love Part 2 (The Letter Version)

Dearest Heart,

I know that I am a difficult person. I can change the atmosphere in a room based on my attitude. I think God has blessed me with the ability to mobilize others. On the other hand, I can also paralyze them. But the last couple of hours have been similar to the "couple of hours" that I face periodically. It's not all the time, mind you...but it happens the moment I grow weary of certain faces. Certain people drain me.

It's not anything personal against them, it's just they aren'

I'm overloaded by mediocre friendships and cordial acquaintances. I can't get back to the normalities with old friends, and those who I'm spiritually close to, don't have the same passions as I. I am so very thankful for all of these people. Never would I take them for granted...

But the more people I meet and hang with, the larger your vacancy becomes.

I miss you, friend.

And it's not that I'm incomplete, or that I have this gapping void in my chest. God is my completion, naturally.

And yet...

I look around, and there is no other source to complement me. No one that understands my moods and mannerisms. Cues into my facial expressions and silences. No one else here truly listens...

They all sit back and wonder why, at times, I'm not my usual talkative, bright-eyed self. And they dare not ask why. They turn concern inward and ignore my existence. Only you reach out without saying a word. Without making me feel guilty for being ME.

A shoulder for the counselor.

...that's just one of the things you are for me.

And not only that...I miss our adventures. Daily, subtle adventures that revealed something new about ourselves.
I'm sick of maintaining.
Sick of uplifting politeness above honesty.
...and I'm through with lackluster.

Yes, I know everything is NOT so serious and zealous...but you know that about me. You embrace that, instead of tolerating my enthusiasm.

I miss you, Jedi.

And I can't remember EXACTLY what it felt like to be held [by you]. It's been months. I've actually learned to live without it. And that thought scares me...because I don't want to. I don't want to learn. But, for the sake of my sanity, I try to "stay warm".

I have to...Lord knows.

I feel a pang of jealousy to know that your pillows are held by you more than I. And I kick myself for not holding you a second longer before you left to get on that plane.

I miss you, lover.

And I'll be fine.

....but we both know that there isn't but so many pens and pieces of paper in this place.

Love always,