(no subject)
08.07.04
Jen, I am walking in silence, moving through what remains of you in this place. My head caught in a short loop of circular thinking and laughing because all I'm doing is flogging dead horses until I'm sure there is no life left in them. All this time I have had a misunderstanding about you and me, me and you. I'm the one in the dark, so to speak, for I realize now that it's me that doesn't understand you, or see you for what you are. This can be looked at as both pejorative and a flattering testament to just how complex and wonderful you are.
Right now, I don't know where you are. I have a good guess, of course. Except for a little worry about your physical body, I know that you are where you need to be. Though the worried part thinks of you out in the desert, under the sun, and I want to ask, "What did you see before everything went black." It's morbid, perhaps. You may see this open letter as an airing of dirty laundry in public or an attempt to paint you as the bad guy. This is not the case at all. In fact, it's just the opposite. This is my most public admission of responsibility for all I've done wrong in 11 years (next week, right?). I don't have too much time to spell things out in detail, but I will do the best I can. Plus, you're not here and even if you were, I know that right now we couldn't even hope to have a conversation without misunderstanding. Some days I feel as if the rats have chewed through the invisible brain wires that connect us and now our packets are disgorging into the air between us, scrambling and becoming incoherent. Above everything else, communication seems to always have been the central issue. How do we fix this when words are all we have? Language, such a futile thing, mired in the impossibility of meaning and comprehension.
I'm hurried now, so I can't say everything I want to. But I think your physical self may be leaving or I may be leaving, I don't know. But I'm still where I was on monday. But I realized one more thing about all this and it was meaningful to me. It doesn't matter if we live in the same house, if we never talk face to face again, or if I never see you in this world again. We have a connection that transcends that. It isn't a matter of being chained together, like a concrete block chained to the ankle of a mafia informer, but more a bond shared experience, love, hurt, and everything else in between. Not that I'm saying I will cling to a memory or something, but instead that we're together in some way that goes beyond my understanding. I hope that if you ever read this, you will not misunderstand this. I know you have a path to walk and it may not be with me, and I'm okay with that. In fact, beyond being okay, I'm pretty sure I see the things that I have done to create this rift. Maybe, in the end, this will only make sense to me. I just had the funniest thing happen, I laughed and laughed and then a tear came out of my left eye, followed by another, another, and a few more. For me, what I know now more than ever is that I think it's a good thing that if I try to be, for lack of a better word, an obstacle on your path, that you will not have it. You will step over me without hesitation.
I just now talked to you, and maybe I shouldn't even post this. But I will. This "open letter" is more for me to deal with my issues than anything else, I suppose. But right now, it's also the only thing that seems least likely to misinterpreted. Besides, now I don't have to think about it anymore.
Jen, I am walking in silence, moving through what remains of you in this place. My head caught in a short loop of circular thinking and laughing because all I'm doing is flogging dead horses until I'm sure there is no life left in them. All this time I have had a misunderstanding about you and me, me and you. I'm the one in the dark, so to speak, for I realize now that it's me that doesn't understand you, or see you for what you are. This can be looked at as both pejorative and a flattering testament to just how complex and wonderful you are.
Right now, I don't know where you are. I have a good guess, of course. Except for a little worry about your physical body, I know that you are where you need to be. Though the worried part thinks of you out in the desert, under the sun, and I want to ask, "What did you see before everything went black." It's morbid, perhaps. You may see this open letter as an airing of dirty laundry in public or an attempt to paint you as the bad guy. This is not the case at all. In fact, it's just the opposite. This is my most public admission of responsibility for all I've done wrong in 11 years (next week, right?). I don't have too much time to spell things out in detail, but I will do the best I can. Plus, you're not here and even if you were, I know that right now we couldn't even hope to have a conversation without misunderstanding. Some days I feel as if the rats have chewed through the invisible brain wires that connect us and now our packets are disgorging into the air between us, scrambling and becoming incoherent. Above everything else, communication seems to always have been the central issue. How do we fix this when words are all we have? Language, such a futile thing, mired in the impossibility of meaning and comprehension.
I'm hurried now, so I can't say everything I want to. But I think your physical self may be leaving or I may be leaving, I don't know. But I'm still where I was on monday. But I realized one more thing about all this and it was meaningful to me. It doesn't matter if we live in the same house, if we never talk face to face again, or if I never see you in this world again. We have a connection that transcends that. It isn't a matter of being chained together, like a concrete block chained to the ankle of a mafia informer, but more a bond shared experience, love, hurt, and everything else in between. Not that I'm saying I will cling to a memory or something, but instead that we're together in some way that goes beyond my understanding. I hope that if you ever read this, you will not misunderstand this. I know you have a path to walk and it may not be with me, and I'm okay with that. In fact, beyond being okay, I'm pretty sure I see the things that I have done to create this rift. Maybe, in the end, this will only make sense to me. I just had the funniest thing happen, I laughed and laughed and then a tear came out of my left eye, followed by another, another, and a few more. For me, what I know now more than ever is that I think it's a good thing that if I try to be, for lack of a better word, an obstacle on your path, that you will not have it. You will step over me without hesitation.
I just now talked to you, and maybe I shouldn't even post this. But I will. This "open letter" is more for me to deal with my issues than anything else, I suppose. But right now, it's also the only thing that seems least likely to misinterpreted. Besides, now I don't have to think about it anymore.