“Letters are crucial manifestoes of our loving. At the center of lesbian freedom in the world is the inviolable love of one woman for another written down in a letter.” -Kay Turner
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I’m sorry. Please accept this apology because this one has a logical reason. I’m sorry for being selfish. I know you have a lot to deal with and it’s harder than any single problem of mine. I suppose I just don’t know how to help you right now and that scares me. Because I want to be the one to lift you up. You’re right in wanting someone to bring you up when you’re down. You deserve it. I want to make you happy like you do for me. I want to be the one you go to, knowing that in doing so, you’ll be okay. I want you to feel like everything is okay when you’re with me, when you’re talking to me. I want the world for you. I want to be the world for you. I just need to learn how to help, but not fix. Have concern for, but not worry. Think about, but not obsess.
One of my vices is that I talk about myself a lot. See, I even feel self-conscious in this letter because I feel like there are too many I’s. And here I go again… I admit, sometimes I take you for granted. I forget how terrible people used to be to me and I remember that you treat me with so much more respect. I know you are there for me whenever I’m down, it’s just, it became such a routine that I lost sight of it and that can be both good and bad. It means you’re doing the right things, but it also means I’m not fully appreciating all that you give me. I’m letting some of it slip by me. I don’t forget it, I just let it slip by sometimes.
Before you, I always thought I was the nice one, too nice, even. But you, you are so nice. You have a giant heart and you are so compassionate. You sacrifice so much for others and I love that about you. But I don’t want you to sacrifice all of you for it either. I’m not quite sure what I’m trying to say, but what I do know is that I have never been in love like this, or at all for that matter. I don’t like to see you sad. I don’t like to see you upset. I don’t like it at all. I loathe this distance between us and I almost wish all these technologies didn’t exist so we wouldn’t have misunderstandings in the way. (Like what happened last night). Just letters. Hand-written letters. Patience. Time. So maybe in the morning you won’t see this as a huge deal but I’m fighting right now. I don’t write letters for just anyone. I’m fighting for you against myself. Does that make any sense?
Anyway, I want you to know that I appreciate all that you do for me. I do. I’m selfish and scared; that’s all. And I’m working on it. This letter hasn’t even begun to explain what’s going on in my head, but it probably has to do with the fact that I haven’t slept. I love you so much. I am so incredibly in love with you and I’m here to stay. Through anything and everything, I’m willing to work through it. What I’ve said before still holds true: forever means forever, babe. I don’t blame you for not talking to me last night and I hope you are feeling slightly better when you wake up.
Forgive me. For all of this. I’ve probably made a fool of myself now.
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