Posts tagged with "letters"

found and lost

I don’t know how to tell my friends about you. What am I supposed to say? That all we shared was some tea and talk and those four hours are reason I still believe in chemistry after all the practical failings of my past relationships? And how do I bring you up, now that it’s been so long I wonder if you even remember me?

Perhaps you wouldn’t be in my mind so often if Green Eyes wasn’t one of my favourite songs. It always takes me back to those days on the mend, when all I had was your brother — singing with a voice like it was soaked in Scotch and left to dry on a line in winter — to give me something new to love. You were the one to give me something to be excited about when it felt like nothing mattered anymore, and just as much became an inextricable part of that time.

That’s why I haven’t forgotten you. That’s why I never will.

I can still see the cavalier way you’d toss your curly hair over your head every now and then, as if you were perpetually deciding how best to wear it. I’ve come to appreciate that kind of casual comeliness, and the fact that you were so unaware of it made it all the more endearing.

We were supposed to start a band of our own. I’d pick up keyboard or cello if you wanted to stick with guitar, we’d do covers of Andrew Vincent, open for house shows, and get signed to Kelp some day. Instead, all I have is a picture of you dancing at the Raw Sugar, and what if forever on my lips.

I may hardly know you, but the truth is I miss you. I still want you in my life. I want to know where you’ve been and who you’ve loved, what you’re dancing to and how else your creativity has taken form. But all I can do is wonder if our paths will ever cross again.

thanks for the trouble you took from her eyes

That little furrow was there because you weren’t. That’s why you never saw it, of course. You must think I hate you cause it was the only thing I couldn’t help her with myself. But I could never hate you. You gave her what she wanted. In the end, that’s all I really wanted too.

I knew it was serious when I saw your umbrella under her bed, back when she hid those kinds of things for my sake. You never realized she only took it as an excuse to see you again (not because she was particularly scared of getting her merino socks wet), the same way you never realized how easy it all was for you. That was a sign that you were the right one. I knew it before she did.

If only there was a bit of mystery left in you. Instead, I had you pegged by the second night, and all I can tell people is that you’re a nice guy, when I want to say you’re an artist, a lover, a fighter, a worthy rival, a slayer of insecurities, a breaker of barriers, a testament to testosterone, a hero among men. She deserves more than the painfully pedestrian life you’ve given her, but I know she’s had enough of heartbreak to think that normal is hard enough to come by. And so I’ve learned that a person’s happiness is all that matters, not the dreams you have for them. I guess it’s hard to give up those dreams when you’re part of them yourself.

I want to say I’m leaving for some noble reason of great importance, but it’s really because there’s nothing left for me in this little town. I used to believe I could escape; eventually I realized you can’t outrun your memories. Now I’m just trying to figure out where I belong. She was all I knew for so long, and now that life is gone.

And so I must tread carefully with new lovers; it’s impossible for me to tell my story without that part of my past. That’s why I wonder what she told you about me, about us. About losing feeling in her face and letters you wouldn’t know how to write. If she intentionally left anything out, or whether our time was even worth mentioning. But the past is still the past, and that’s the only reason I can write a letter now to the man who saved her without ever knowing it.

There’s someone I want you to meet.

He’s a great guy who looks particularly nice in a skinny tie. His deep, smokey eyes seem to slay every woman he meets, and even the ones he hasn’t yet. There’s a strapping masculinity that you like, carried in the angles of his face, but a gentle smile reveals his true personality.

He’s intelligent enough to challenge that mind of yours, but so down-to-earth that you’d never feel inadequate. He’s constantly creative and a musical genius, and I know you’d appreciate his work as much as he’d appreciate yours, even if they’re in different mediums. He can let loose and have a great time, but he’s responsible enough to know when to stop. He’s confident, but modest. Funny without being crude or clownish. Thoughtful and kind. Generous with his time, his thoughts, his possessions, and his life. He’s the total package, but most important of all, I know he’d make you happy.

And while I’ve always been unbearably jealous when I think of you with anyone else (and maybe I chose him cause I like to think he reminds me of myself), he’s the only guy I wouldn’t mind you being with if it can’t be me, cause it would be such a waste otherwise.

You’re my big bear

and that means you’d get a big bear hug the next time I see you, but they say you’ve shattered your rib cage, lost a pile of teeth, and broken every bone on the right side of your body, save the arm.

I’ve been there man. You know that. That’s why you know I’ll never judge you for what happened. You told me we could always talk cause you were once on the edge of the same blade, so you should have known the same, but you didn’t pick up when he said maybe there was a better chance you’d listen to me. All I could do was sit there, trying to keep calm, but expecting the next call to be about a body.

I should be angry. Not cause you didn’t call me to say goodbye before you took off, but because you hurt yourself and you’re my brother, and that means you hurt my family.

I can’t stay mad cause you’re conscious now, your vitals are stable, there’s no brain damage, and relief has surpassed anger. They say it’s mainly injuries to the bones and that bones heal, long as it may take.

Will I recognize you the next time I see you? Will I cry? Will you ever understand how scared I was? I can’t call cause the nurse needs to be by your side, and I can’t visit yet cause only immediate family are allowed for now. Otherwise, I’d be in a car, driving down there with a case of Blue ready for you when you’re out.

I don’t want to worry anymore. I want to see with my own eyes that you’re okay. I want you drunk at my wedding with your cap on backwards, screaming your ass off when I walk down the aisle. I want you at every New Year’s party, cause you’re one of the only reasons I go anymore. I want you to teach my kids how put someone in a proper choke-hold cause they should know how to take care of themselves, and you’re smart in all the ways I’m not.

We all need you as much as I do. That’s why you’re still alive, and that’s what I’m going to make you understand one day.