Dear Z
Why do i flatter you by continuing to write to you? i don’t know – love is strange if nothing else. life is even stranger. how can i still be with you? how can i find myself falling in love with you again and again, a little shoot taking root and grabbing hold despite all tendrils against nature. we are more stable post seperation. its like when i came back you started working as hard as i do at this relationship – who knew it could be so hard? hard hard work, terrible tedium and frustration and annoyance. you say you care for me beyond doubt - but does anyone? can we all really see beyond ourselves and give and give and give beyond the point where there is nothing left and we are scared that we will collapse and our empty husks be blown away into great nothingness? i have seen my mother do that – i cannot. i know i cannot. yet.
maybe one day our dreams will come true. maybe one day we will have our giant house, our ungrateful teenaged kids and our twice a year vacations which we go with our giant families. i don’t know if such mountains can be encompassed from such humble black valleys, but at least we can have courtesy and companionship and sex along the way. i love you baby.
