if I can't see then I can't find (part XI)

(Continued from part X.)

A longer letter.

Jul 22, 2012, 7:08 AM

My dear one, I've been here in bed staring at the trees outside as the sky slowly lightens. I still have no answers, only more questions. Some nights it's difficult to sleep; other nights it's simply impossible. The only surety in all this confusion is that I love you, but that's starting to feel like silk ribbon on the wind, and I the one left on the ground, watching it braid the air as it drifts away.

The girl's leaving Thursday. I have my next disability hearing September 19th. The girls are hoping for good things, I'm just hoping I get through it without collapsing again.

And I wonder where you are. I wonder, and I worry, and I curse you, then curse myself for lacking faith. I inhale the world through my eyes and want to share it with you, then remember you're not there anymore. I want to share with you my discoveries, my successes, my failures, my finds--and then wonder why I'd bother.

Everything I've done to this point has had the end goal of staying together for you, for when you returned. Going back through old chats, old letters, all the poetry, everything was wrapped around that sole, focused desire.

But as I've said before, love doesn't conquer all. And if I've learned anything from the wreckage of my past, it's that some things, as much as we may wish otherwise, we simply can't recover from.

We're neither of us lucky enough for me to wish you well with a light heart and be on my way. But on the other hand, if you're no longer checking [your email]'s accounts, you've effectively made that decision for us, anyway, haven't you?

I'm not done crying over you, as inconvenient as it is at times. And if you never circle back to me, I will miss you the whole of my life. And I will always wonder why you left.

But you're just one more thing that slipped my grasp, [given name]. Something I've finally realized I seem to be very good at, much as I'd have it not be so. And mine is the task of watching your bright flame of silk wander far beyond my grasp.

And all the yearning I possess isn't enough to bring you back.

I'm not giving up completely, but I think there's less of wisdom, and more of utter stubborn idiocy to the decision.

Thus, I'll write when I have anything of importance to say, or in October. Whichever comes first.

Be well, [given name]. Be happy. Above all, be alive.

[Em]