m'he trobat, crec. jah.
dear potential mate,
i am writing to let you know that i have realized that a lot of the past few years has been dedicated to finding you, whether i intended on doing so or not. in my mind you were that essential link to exploring aspects of myself that i have not yet come to the foreground. i wanted to learn how to love and to learn what it was like to be loved. i wanted to find the connection that has been lacking in so many of my friendships, in so many of my familial relationships, and summarily understand why it has been so difficult for people to come to understand and know me for who i am. i have searched for you through others and, though i do not regret my decisions, have been left even more confused. i have played and been played and somehow or another consider everything as part of my life experience. i do not regret my life lived; but i want you to know that the time has come for me to continue my path without having your constant shadow on it.
come to me when you are ready. but do not come to me as a wraith, rather, be of a substance that i can see more than a shadow of, that i can taste, touch, and feel in my heart. i have been waiting so long, with so much of a thirst that i thought you would be able to quench. but what i now realize is that you will never be my water-bearer, no, something as essential as that i must find myself. i cannot wait any longer; i will continue, i will live. when you come and if you do come, please do nothing more than love me. love me for who i am. love me for my peculiarities, for my strengths as well as my weaknesses, for my inability to communicate at times, for my weak left pinky finger, for my love for indian food. please love me for my allergies, for my love of procrastination, for my fumbling attempts at quitting my vice of smoking, and for my love of french accordion music. for you to love me entirely and completely is all i ask--is that being too selfish of me?
i want you to come, i really really do. naturally i would prefer for you to come as soon as possible. but perhaps life just does not work that way. perhaps you will come soon, perhaps you will never come. i used to think that i was not ready for you and that i had to learn how to cope with myself first before coping with someone else in my life. but if there is one thing i have learned, and contradicting a lot of what i have said recently, it is that i really do have some sense of who i am--are you ready for that?
most cordially yours,
michael l. alas
i am writing to let you know that i have realized that a lot of the past few years has been dedicated to finding you, whether i intended on doing so or not. in my mind you were that essential link to exploring aspects of myself that i have not yet come to the foreground. i wanted to learn how to love and to learn what it was like to be loved. i wanted to find the connection that has been lacking in so many of my friendships, in so many of my familial relationships, and summarily understand why it has been so difficult for people to come to understand and know me for who i am. i have searched for you through others and, though i do not regret my decisions, have been left even more confused. i have played and been played and somehow or another consider everything as part of my life experience. i do not regret my life lived; but i want you to know that the time has come for me to continue my path without having your constant shadow on it.
come to me when you are ready. but do not come to me as a wraith, rather, be of a substance that i can see more than a shadow of, that i can taste, touch, and feel in my heart. i have been waiting so long, with so much of a thirst that i thought you would be able to quench. but what i now realize is that you will never be my water-bearer, no, something as essential as that i must find myself. i cannot wait any longer; i will continue, i will live. when you come and if you do come, please do nothing more than love me. love me for who i am. love me for my peculiarities, for my strengths as well as my weaknesses, for my inability to communicate at times, for my weak left pinky finger, for my love for indian food. please love me for my allergies, for my love of procrastination, for my fumbling attempts at quitting my vice of smoking, and for my love of french accordion music. for you to love me entirely and completely is all i ask--is that being too selfish of me?
i want you to come, i really really do. naturally i would prefer for you to come as soon as possible. but perhaps life just does not work that way. perhaps you will come soon, perhaps you will never come. i used to think that i was not ready for you and that i had to learn how to cope with myself first before coping with someone else in my life. but if there is one thing i have learned, and contradicting a lot of what i have said recently, it is that i really do have some sense of who i am--are you ready for that?
most cordially yours,
michael l. alas