la vieille ferme

Dear K-

Dreams can rattle our bones like a gust shakes and clatters barren branches in the heart of winter. They are not always taken lightly and it’s those like your courthouse melodrama that leave us questioning in the daytime. Did it have meaning? Would I kill someone if it meant benefit/safety for several other souls? Who would stay by my side if I were to be labeled a murderer? What did I eat for dinner that let such a sour act to unfold in my subconscious?

You were right to leave that girl. If she wasn’t willing to pay you heed then she wasn’t worth the time. She wasn’t even worth the lousy cigarette. You deserve better, and I hope you can find it. I want you to find the sweet soul who will drip viscous tears like sticky grappa when she finds you in pain, in torment. The girl with a plain country mouth that will truly smile only for you- every other grin is just for show, just for the audience…but when she looks at you it will be genuine, just like everything else about her when she’s by your side.

My emotions have not changed since our last correspondence. My heart is held captive…but I have no desire to break free. It’s a unique phenomenon…when you fall in love, all the other suitors seem to crawl out from the shadows and begin making their presence known again. It is as if they can smell your happiness, see the glow in your cheeks and hear the tempo of your heart. They try to tell you they love you, or they try to slip you their phone number from behind the coffee counter, or they serenade you while on the job. It is as if they are inexplicably attracted now that you are unobtainable.

And I am unobtainable. For the first time in my life I have no problem turning those gentlemen callers away…I don’t even look at them and think of potentials. I have no interest in such games or scenarios. Instead, I laugh to myself and think “my, won’t this make a funny story to tell Aleks later…”

My thoughts are always of him. It’s getting to be embarrassing. But I don’t want it to stop.
-K

This isn't the letter I promised

Dear K,

I dreamt I was being convicted of murder, and sentenced to death, and I had six months to go on a roadtrip with my family and my girlfriend, and I pushed them all away so I could finish my novel, and we went to old barns and I cried every day of those six months. Big wet tears of humility and stupidity, it's what the cows cry on the slaughterhouse ramps. I cried tears of salt and bile. And there she was the girl I loved to kiss them away and cry with me because our time was so short.

And of course I didn't do it, and I kept trying to figure out who would think I possibly killed someone, and I wanted to solve the mystery of the murder and where the real killer was, but I knew I wouldn't do it in time, I only had six months in that dream and I'd rather spend them living and dying in the arms of my loved ones. So I did, and the dream ended with me walking up the courthouse steps.


Last night I ran into a girl I took on a date last week. She said let's smoke a cigarette and get pizza and talk, and then I left her there on the street because she was talking to everyone else but me.

I guess what I'm saying is sometimes I want to be convicted of murder. I want to find out who my lover is.

This isn't the letter I promised, but it counts as a post.

K

Dear K,


Your last letter pleases me down to my marrow. 


I will write more soon. I will ask you questions and give you encouragement. 


I am too tired tonight. But it is so good to hear you are happy. It has made me happy. 

Enjoy every minute you get of this,
Don't let your friends and co-workers and acquaintances take this away from you,
This thing you have found is too rare,

K

P.S. This doesn't count as a post, if we're still keeping score.

honey and bile

Dear K-

I am in love. Just when my world felt like it was going to shatter at my feet, he was there. He came in with a quiet voice and unchecked grin. When he told me he loved me, his lips were trembling. All alone, in a private room in the back of a restaurant, assorted wine bottles crowding the table before us…a lesson in wine-tasting turned into thoughtful discussion.

This is how it all began- innocent, unthreatening conversations about anything and everything. We would sip wine and talk until the sun begged to break the day. I told him things I had never told anyone. I do not know why- it just felt right to be honest. It felt like he would understand.

And he did understand…probably all too well. I didn’t mean to pull him away; I didn’t mean to cause a stir. But our hearts were buzzing along in harmony and it could not be ignored. He was reserved, almost monk-like in his devotion. He swore he’d never touch me unless I gave him permission, no matter how much he longed to hold my hand or kiss my cheek. But the attraction was not physical…it was intensely emotional, feeling like he was forged from the same earth from which I arose. It was unspeakable, indescribable…and we both were surprised.

So now my heart is afloat- the happiest one. Our newfound connection has not been without hurdles…and I know that it is hard for others to understand or accept it. I have been called a homewrecker. I have been called a whore. I have been told my heart is fickle and cruel.

But I can’t help what I feel…maybe I am selfish. But I am absolutely, completely, embarrassingly in love with him. What am I to do? I have never felt this way before.

Words fail me,
-K

Love. Love. Love.

Dear K, Love. Please love for me. Love in my absence. Love this person. Love them with all of you. Lose yourself. Loose your senses. Loose yourself. I wish you joy and sorrow. I wish you heights and depths. Without the depths you would not know the heights. Love. I wish you happiness. I wish you frustration. I wish you joy. I wish you love. I have had mine. I have had enough love for a lifetime, and I know I will have more. Right now I wish you love. I wish you love as I wish you clouds and sunshine. I wish you love as I wish you oxygen and bread. For all that is in me, for all that is me, for all that I might be, I wish you more. Love, K

calm, as if absent

dear K- i want to make it easier for you. i want to lift the weights and let my spine crack like a wine glass if that's the force required to do so, the strength necessary to be certain you are well. i cannot bear to see you be in pain. you deserve happiness. of course, sometimes i wonder whether we "deserve" anything. what sort of unspoken promises were made to us when we were young to make us feel entitled to happiness and self-assurance? if we live relatively tolerant lives, are we truly guaranteed the contentment of a satisfying existence? perhaps some of us were born to suffer...born to be the artists and the creatives. micheaux has a fantastic line about how we weren't all born to open windows...some of us were born to suffocate. it is just how these things progress, i suppose. so of course our lives aren't simple and bland...we'd have no reason to write, no reason to live if there wasn't some unpredictability and excitement (even when negative). people are falling in love with me and i don't know what to do. today i spent the entire day indoors, thinking to myself. sipped tea at the kitchen table staring at the wood grain. laid in bed and studied the water-stain continents of the ceiling. tomorrow will be different. -k

I'm back again. Whatever it was lasted only a day or two. I had started to doubt myself and my worth and what the hell I was doing with my life. Then I started writing, and I've only written like four or five pages in the last couple of days, but already I feel better. Just wanted to let you know, K