74:365

You used to sign your letters the same way every time.

 

“Perhaps it is love somewhere.”

That sentence really stirred my heart. Got me thinking. The way I feel right now is, YES! Yes it really is. Perhaps? No. It is. Yes. I am so caught off guard by you. All the time. YOU like ME!?! How is that possible. You are beautiful. You are easy to talk to. I can’t even put into words what you mean to me sometimes. I try to and these words I am fitted with just don’t seem adequate. The don’t measure up to how you make me feel. To how you have touched my heart & changed my life. You are an incredible young woman & yes, I think this is real. I think you are real. And you are for me.
 
You are beautiful.
I really like everything about you.
You are splendid.
I miss you.
 
 
Slainte.”
 
Slainte.
Slainte.
Slainte.
 
The word “slainte” mean: Sláinte (SLAHN-chə) is a word literally translating as “health”and is commonly used as a drinking toast in Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man.
 
Well, I thought it was very appropriate to bring this up as it is the eve before Saint Patty’s Day…
But, you texted me.
 
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The first letter you ever sent me was October 19, 2010. In that span of time, we loved, we fought, I moved on, you moved on, and somehow, I am left empty handed.
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I gambled on another relationship. I banked on someone ELSE since you were states away. I thought, perhaps I should take a chance on someone ELSE who is within driving distance…. and I gambled and lost everything.
 
 
You are happy now. You have a new lady. You dream bigger dreams. You are better.
 
That seems to happen to me. I date people. I break their hearts. They get better… and I get worse.
 
I grow from it.
But these growing pains won’t go away.
 
No one has ever said or romanced me the way he did almost three years ago… and possibly no one will.
 
I am a words person. I write. I sing songs. I connect to music. I like words.
And guys tend to not get that.
So, as I reflect on the price I paid to gamble, you text me saying “Hey.”
Of course, I have a snappy come back… something snide and unreasonable.
 
And I told you exactly what I thought of her…. I think I’m prettier, funnier, closer to what you need…. but that doesn’t make you run to me.
 
We almost were something great… and I blew it to only get screwed in the end.
I’ve lost everything while you are making a life of your own.
 
So, have you ever lost something you chose to give up? Have you risked it all and lost?
 
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One thought on “74:365

  1. well love is in many forms. for example look at the flower that is cared for by the buzzing bee, the sun and the rain. it takes many forms of different levels of love to help us grow or evolve. his love was the kind which leaves an impression but plz do not mistake kindness for weakness or his love to be the only kind of love. seems interesting. anyhow, im an underground writer with a loyal following. I wrote a fantasy book named LondenBerg by Lord Biron, check it out.

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