letters – Page 2 – The Messy Middle 🖤

Ode to my Forever Friend, my Constant Companion.

Music,

It’s been many years since I’ve written you – although we are never apart, forever together.

You’re like an imaginary friend with no physical body. I guess if I had to explain what you look like or feel like – I would say that you are like the caress of the wind. You are able to touch without a physical presence. So, thank you for your magic and your wonder.

Your words have helped me to realize that I’m not alone in many things that I’ve felt over the course of my life and those ties that bind have helped me to sustain my belief in humanity – helped me to always remember that at the core, we all feel.

You also sustained my belief that love exists. I don’t know that I can say that I’ve felt that earth-shattering, out of this world love connection with anyone yet, but I remember how many times you’ve sung about it – in different genres. So, I trust that you know what you’re talking about. After all – how could there have been that many loves worth singing about and not one for me? So, I believe.

I appreciate that you’re ever-changing, but also constant. We’ve grown together over the years. Evolving and maintaining all at once – into forever.

I don’t imagine that we will ever run out of silence, sounds, words, or even time. That lets me know that you are one of few people or things that will truly follow me to the end. This brings me ultimate peace. It would only be right that the presence that was the soundtrack of my life would be there with me to meet my death.

I appreciate the high echoes of your piano notes, and the low timbre of your guitar strokes.

You’ve made me cry.

You’re made me laugh.

You’ve reassured me.

You’ve reminded me.

You’ve taught me.

You’ve made me smile.

You’ve made me hum.

Most of all – you’ve made me dance.

You’ve held my hand for a long time.

I’ll be feeling you – in the next song, always in the next song.

–S.

Ode to the Love of my Life.

At the time this letter was written – I referred to music as the love of my life, but as I’m healing – I realize that I AM the love of my life. Now, I would say that music is probably my oldest friend, my forever companion. My mother told me that I have loved music for as long as she can remember.

Music,

When I think back to my earliest memories, there was you.

On my hand I can count the number of things in my life that have been constant and you always make the top five.

Thank you for staying up with me when I couldn’t sleep. Thank you for keeping secrets. Thank you for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself. Thank you for picking the best movies. Thank you for your words of wisdom and strength when I could not put together my own. Thank you for being a distraction right before my biggest presentations. Thank you for studying with me. Thank you for crying with me. Thank you for thousands of drives around the city. Thank you for blocking out sounds that I didn’t want to hear. Thank you for nights out on the town. Thank you for always being around for road trips.

Thank you for your consistency – summer, winter, spring, and fall.

Thank you for being there for the transition periods within my life, and for moving schools with me. Thank you for sleeping with me when there was no one. Thank you for being my someone. Thank you for using no words when the situation called for that. Thank you for always knowing the right words to say. Thank you for understanding heartbreaks, and the times that I ran back to the wrong people. Thank you for being my friend when I felt that I was the only person in a room full of people.

You walk with me in everything I do.

I am forever grateful to you because you have shown me true love. You heighten every situation. I don’t know where you end, and where I begin. It has always been us two.

Your whispers in the dark. Your yells in the night. Your repetition when you think I can’t hear you.

Sometimes, I overlooked you in moments when I thought I found something close to your existence, but more than ever I remember how in love we have been, how in love we are, and how in love I hope we will be.

Wherever you are, I am home. You are everything. Everything is you.

Music, even if we never get that old thing back, I want you to know that you are and always have been the love of my life.

Yours,

–S.

Brother’s 12th Birthday Card.

From 3 years ago.

Could you do something for me? Could you just hold on a second? Stop growing for a minute. Stay innocent a moment longer.

I’m not ready because I know what’s out there. I know that the world can break your heart a million ways to Sunday. And if I could somehow make it so, I’d shield you from it forever. I’d keep you in a bubble, so that I’d never have to see you hurt, down, or crying.

But then I’d be doing the world a disservice. Because your heart is one of a kind. I know that maybe I’m a little biased because you’re my baby brother. But I’ve seen you hold the door open for those who don’t have the same physical abilities we do. I’ve seen you cry at a Sarah McLaughlin commercial. I’ve heard your jokes. I’ve listened to you singing your favorite songs. I’ve seen you doing something you love. I’ve heard you laugh. I’ve seen your concentration when you draw. I’ve heard your hilarious comebacks when playing video games. I’ve seen your eyes light up when you’re building a Lego set. I’ve seen you love on a kitten. I’ve been amazed by your understanding of equality and the wisdom you possess beyond your years.

We never tried to shield you. We let you find your own opinions. Your own way.

And I know you’re going to be okay. Because you’re one of those people who is unapologetically themselves. A light in a too often dim world. A candle lighting the rest of the candles. A sparkler shooting sparks after the rest of the fireworks have died down.

But could you do something for me?

Could you just hold on a second?

I love you, E.

–S.

Pops.

You are the strongest, toughest, funniest person that I know.

I can’t imagine a world you’re not a part of.

One where I don’t get to see your nostrils flare or hear your funny comeback.

One where I don’t get to see you loving mom or brother.

Knowing you’re somewhere living, breathing, loving, and laughing gives me the strength to always do the best that I can even when I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

–S.

I hope you find your love song.

At the end of the day – as much as I hate to say it – we are not meant for each other.

It would be unfortunate for us to force something that was never meant to be.

When love comes for me, I won’t have to enhance it by painting it more beautifully in my mind.

Love will paint me – in brighter colors, I will be born again.

Although it was never me, I hope you find whatever it is you’re searching for.

I wish your heart peace, and I hope you’re able to trust another with your heart.

Love is not meant to be a one-sided emotion. That’s why it hurts so much for many of us, you know? When you are in love together, that’s what the songs are about.

I know that music is very important to you – as it is for me.

So, I hope you find your love song. May it never lose its charm.

Each time you play it, may it bring you every last feeling and sensation that you felt the very first time you heard it.

–S.

I’m Sorry, S.

An overdue apology to myself.

If I was only able to tell you one very last thing, I would simply tell you that I am sorry and I know that you would understand why. I’ve been so very wrong. I’ve spent my entire life putting you last in hopes of making others happy, and where did it get me? It got me here. I was going to write several different letters to various people, several different truths, but I just want to write to you. I want to put you first because I always put you last. From the very bottom of my heart and from the deepest part of my soul, I am so fucking sorry. I can only hope that you can forgive me and that I can repair all of the damaged pieces. I hope you still trust me with your heart and I promise to never fail you again. For twenty-seven years, I overlooked you, I deemed you as less than, someone unlovable, I let you disappear and fade into the background. What can I say, except I’m sorry for every minute that I let you believe that?

I think of the bump on your nose, your blackheads, your hairy face, your stomach rolls, your stretch marks, your bumps, your lumps, your curves, your scars, your acne, the red marks on your face, your chubby hands, your big wide feet, the dark spots between your legs where you chafed because your thighs rub together, your saggy breasts, your flat ass, all of the things that I tore apart in the mirror to make you believe you were less than. All of these things come together to make a breathtaking human being. They come together to make you.

I think of the times you walked, talked, laughed, and sang. I think of how you healed a broken wrist, cuts, wounds, and bruises. I think of how you take care of me – how you bathe me, you feed me, you put me to sleep. I think of how you see, hear, smell, touch, and taste the world. I think of how you make sure I breathe. I think of how you make sure blood and oxygen travel throughout my entire body. How you fight disease and infection. How you fire all of my neurons. How you power all of my organs. How your entire life basically revolves around protecting me. How you continued to love me when I tried to convince you that you were unlovable.

I think of the broken hearts you lived through from friends and lovers alike. How you love to make others laugh, how you love to inspire them to be their best selves. How you love hard. How you love true and honest despite the love given to you. How you never folded when others did. How you provide friendship unparalleled in others. I think of your kindness. Your intelligence. Your strength. Your work ethic. How protective you are about what you love. How you bounced back from failure. How you never tried to be too prideful about your successes.

You blow me away.

You always show up for me. Always. Even when I don’t show up for you. You’re my greatest friend, my first real love, my soul mate and the love of my life. The one person in this whole world, this whole universe, who really does know all of my secrets and the happenings in my head and still has the ability to love me despite everything I’ve ever done and said.

I don’t think I’ve ever said it, but I love you. I’m in love with you all that you are.

I love you.

I would say it for every second of your life that you couldn’t feel it if it would change something up this point, but there are no take backs in this life. All you can do is try again, hope for the best, and do better in the future.

So, I promise to love you every day moving forward. I will show up for you. I will not fail you. My love will not waver. My love is stronger than all of the forces in this life that choose to fight against it. Nothing will vanquish it, not even death. Because wherever we go after this life, I will love you there too. I will love you after this lifetime, and the next. And the next. And the next. I will love you.

–S.

Heavy Heart.

Excerpt from a letter that now almost seems like it was written in a past life.

I’ll miss your stories. I’ll miss fighting with you.

I’ll miss your deep voice. I’ll miss knowing you.

I’ll miss hearing your smile through the phone. I’ll miss you calling me on your lunch break.

I’ll miss falling asleep to your text messages. I’ll miss waking up to your text messages.

I will miss everything so fucking much.

God, it’s really over.

My heart is so heavy.

It is so so tired.

–S.

I don’t understand any of it.

Another letter written to my dead grandmother from years ago.

Grandma,

Love is a strange thing. Love in connection with death is even stranger. It’s when you no longer inhabit the earth that the regret hits. All of the phone calls you should have made. The time you should’ve spent. The memories you should’ve made.

I have to believe that in some way this will reach you. That in some way, shape, or form – it still can.

Some days it scares me that the memory of your laugh and your voice is fading. It scares me that people immediately get caught up in the politics of it all. Where did the mourning go?

People prepare you for heartbreak. And sex. And to cook. To clean. To love. To remember to feed the dog. To take responsibility for your actions. To say sorry.

They don’t prepare you for death.

And maybe that’s why we all act so differently. For some, it’s the pain that comes with waking up every morning. For some, it’s their smile and how it will never be fully genuine again, never reach their eyes. For some, it’s burying any real emotion, six feet.

For others, it happens at random moments. The wind against their face. Blades of grass brushing against legs. The sun burning the skin. Rain hitting the window. Or it hits every few months. Or years. The darkness finds its way into your bedroom. It sleeps with you. It eats with you. It bathes with you. It breaths with you.

I won’t tell you what it is for me. Just know that life is what it always was. And then some days – I remember. And life becomes something entirely different.

I don’t understand many things. They crash into me and knock me over. And I don’t understand them.

Love is a strange thing.

Death is even stranger.

Mourning is the strangest of them all.

I’m still loving on you girl. I know that you’re still holding it down – wherever it is that you are.

–S.

Black Boots.

2014.

I’m driving home.

It’s 2:32 in the morning.

It’s chilly in Texas now.

More late at night than during any other time of the day.

I wonder what the weather is like where you are. I turn the radio on, and I hear Justin Timberlake taking back the night.

I wonder what you’re listening to nowadays. Are you playing your piano?

I turn the radio off. I don’t want to take back this night. It’s beautiful. I want to burn it into my memory forever. It’s truly been special and I haven’t done anything special in quite some time. When I am wearing my faux leather black boots, I feel like I can do anything. I wore them tonight. If we still spoke, you’d know about them. I would have sent you a picture. I was dressed in all black with touches of gold jewelry. I felt sexy and mysterious all wrapped into one with a ribbon on it.

I laughed a lot tonight. Real laughter. I meant all of it.

And there was this moment when I was driving home, and the air was blowing aggressively against my face, that I missed you.

I really really missed you.

I wondered if you were at work maybe thinking of me too.

I wanted you to wrap your words around me and bring me warmth the rest of the car ride home.

I wanted you to lay me down on my pillow and sing me to sleep.

Your deep low timbre.

I would do anything to hear your smile – even over the telephone.

I don’t even need to see it, it would be enough.

Just to know that it was my smile. For me. Because of me.

If it’s cold where you are, I wish you warmth.

I wish you the sun.

–S.

I remember those faux leather black boots. I wore them into another love story. They were my favorite boots to dance in downtown. Eventually – one of them started coming apart and I would use black tape to keep it together. I was wearing them in dimly lit bars and clubs, but also didn’t give a fuck if anyone noticed the tape.

I loved those black boots. I LIVED in those black boots.

RIP Faux Leather Black Boots.

Nothing Mattered.

I want you to know that the nights we spent with outfits too short for our own good, dried up alcohol on our bodies from random strangers stumbling around the bar, sweaty hair, and cigarette smelling clothes are nights that I will never forget.

On those nights – we owned the town.

Two girls holding hands walking barefoot with their heels in their hands starting up at the skyscrapers of the city.

The whole city was lit up with neon signs, the moon, and the stars.

Nothing mattered on those nights.

Not whose heart was broken.

Not what college paper was waiting to be written.

Not what family or friend drama was developing.

Not that there was a work shift coming in the morning.

–S.