Dearest...

I've wanted to say that word to you for so very long.

How long has my ridiculous obsession lasted (there's no other word for it really)?

Much too long, I'm afraid. Not a word or a look from me. Just a constant binding, choking feeling every morning that I know I will see you. I've tried to shake this thing, but it's like an ever-present ache that can't be appeased. I can say nothing, for you neither know nor care to know about what I'm feeling. Your indiffence kills me, but it also keeps me balanced and on the edge.

What is it that ties me? Is it those faint freckles on that pale pink-tinged cheek of yours? Or is the way you walk, with that slight swaying of those hips? Or maybe its the way you talk so lovingly of your children and that man of yours?

I think it's the stillness of you that gets to me the most. That wonderful calmness that emanates from you like so much warm water over the skin.

Dearest, I will have to leave soon, and you will never see this letter I know. I cannot stay much longer when you are so near. It is not fair to the one that I love. Yes, I love her as well. It is not the kind I have for you, but it is real and deep. She deserves better than me, and I'm not really worthy of her love. But I'm going to try to make her happy. That's what the vow means.

[submitted 10/12/02]