I wasn't prepared to be read like Tolstoy (part IX)

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts."
~~Winston Churchill

(Continued from part VIII.)

Another one.

Jul 14, 2012, 2:34 AM

[given name],

I can't stand this, you know. The not knowing--the not knowing even months later--whether you've died, or been kidnapped, or fell into a coma, or simply walked away uncaring--honestly, I just want to know that you're okay. At this point, that's really it. My faith has eroded to rust and splinters, my heart has shattered, and still, no word.

No word.

I hate not writing. I hate not communicating. But I am calling into the abyss, and I do not like the silence I'm hearing back.

And I am trying, I am doing my best to keep reminding myself that I love you, that you are still worthy of that love, and that trust, and that faith, and it's getting so difficult to breathe...I am keeping what faith I can, and hoping for the best, and trying to reconstruct a life without you in it.

When I never wanted a life without you in it.

And still, I am~

Yours.

[Em]

Followed by a very short one.

Sat, Jul 14, 2012, 9:59 PM

[given name],

please.

please, [given name], please...if you don't want to own me I will find a way to understand, if you don't want to love me I'll work on accepting that too, I just want to know you're OKAY

please, just that, just tell me that.

And another.

Sun, Jul 15, 2012, 10:48 PM

Why no word? We're back here again. What went wrong? Why are you just GONE?

Gods, I hope you're okay.

And another.

Mon, Jul 16, 2012, 9:00 PM

It's crossed my mind today that maybe you've decided it's too late. That maybe you think too much time has passed, and you'd rather have regrets than come forward and risk the pain of argument, or even just conversation.

There's a couple things wrong with that assumption, if you have it. First: it's not too late if you come back. It's only too late if you don't.

And the second, paired with the first: it's only too late to fix things if I give up on you. And though I am in pain, alternating between rage, fear and worry, I haven't given up on you yet.

Not completely. Hope may be dying on the vine, but it takes a long, long time to expire.

And I still love you.

[Em]

More to come.