J

You know, this whole experience has been a great trial of my patience and ability to be happy. I’m really starting to see where my weaknesses lie, and what I need to fix so as to not affect negatively those around me.

I’ve decided to stop counting the days it’s been. Knowing a number isn’t going to change a single thing, so why bother? Does a number of days quantify my longing for you? Does it make things better? 80 days is really no different from 90 or 100 days, so why do I need to worry about one more? In the end, I’m simply going to miss you all the greater, regardless of how time passes. Perhaps I miss you as much as I did on the first day, perhaps more, and maybe even less. But does it matter? I still miss you with all my heart; the past is gone, and all I want to think about is the present and future.

For my birthday, I think there is only one thing I want. You can probably guess what that is. Sure I hardly have time for anything anymore, but this is one thing I would MAKE time for. To see you again, with fresh knowledge of how I look in your eyes would be simply the greatest thing. To look at you, to see your mouth articulate the words that I have only been able to read on a screen for so long would be a miracle beyond description.

“Nothing almost sees miracles, but misery”
- William Shakespeare, King Lear

For those of you who aren’t totally in love with Shakespeare, what is being said is that when faced with misery, even the smallest and most insignificant things can be seen as miracles.

To see your smile, hear your laugh, watch you talk; they are such small things that you would hardly take notice – until you lose them. To touch your arm, look in your eyes, feel your warmth; those are miracles.

I sometimes feel as if I am being disloyal to the one I love, giving thought to how others view me instead of simply being happy with your acceptance. But you’ve said yourself, multiple times, that you are not ‘involved’ with anyone at the moment. Well, define involved! Are you just as unsure about this road as I am?

And then, do I really love you? Can I truthfully say it? I’ve said it once before, and perhaps that was the reason that it didn’t last? I will likely never know truly what caused it, nor do I think there is really an answer. But I still stumble when I think about truly loving someone. At the time, I meant it with all my heart, even if my definition of love was incorrect. But now I can’t help but wonder if I have perhaps too quickly jumped to the conclusion of ‘love’?

Our adult counterparts often belittle youthful relationships as not being serious, viewing them as “puppy love”, and do not give them the full appreciation I believe they deserve. If we are truly not loving now, when will we truly learn what love is? Is there some magic time when a false feeling of love turns into something real? Does the love fairy come and visit adolescents in the night, bestowing upon them feelings of love?

Am I being silly in wanting to go visit someone I don’t know extremely well? To want to book a flight out to Vancouver Island to see someone who I as of yet can’t say I’m in love with? Will I be viewed as the romantic fool who threw away his life for love? Or will people look upon it as being a wise choice, putting love as the number one priority?

I have very few pictures of you. And as much as I don’t want to be a creeper, I try and stay connected to your life in the only way I can – Facebook. Yes, I found the most amazing picture of you, and I now carry it with me everywhere I go, and will happily show it to those who truly desire to see what I am so fascinated by. Those eyes…a miracle.

A promise – I said that I will come and visit you. I said that I will give you a hug on sight. That is all I desire.

I mentioned in one of my e-mails that I see your face everywhere. And that’s not a lie by any means. I see someone with a sweater like you have, I see someone with short hair, I see someone wearing a turk’s head. And my heart just leaps for joy, believing that she has at last come to make my life complete. But alas, it is never you. I long to see your face in all it’s living, non-photographic glory, but will that ever happen?

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,

You make me happy, when skies are grey,

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,

So please don’t take, my sunshine away.

The other night, dear, while I was sleeping,

I dreamt I held you in my arms,

When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken,

So I hung, my head, and I cried…”

And I really did dream of you. I never dream, and then suddenly, out of the blue, there you are. Right in front of me. Sure the dream was full of symbolism that I still have not been able to figure out, but it was the greatest dream I have ever had. Why? I got to kiss you.

I continue to miss you more than words can describe. I wake up in the morning, and I look at a picture of you, and it is the highlight of my day. To see you smile is a miracle I shall never forget.

Your eyes like great jewels radiating beauty,

Evermore shall glow within my soul,

Warming the very core of this hollow shell,

Until it is but a shimmering pool of love.

(Weak attempt at Shakespearian poetry...)

A, I’m sorry if you don’t like a specific physical attribute of hers, but please, kindly keep it to yourself. I just find it a little rude, ok? Thanks.

I was watching Faust last night, and there was a single scene that really got to me. I didn’t get to see all of it, though I really hope to see it in full soon, because it was just such a beautiful love scene that I wanted to cry. I am consistently amazed at how there are people who can so accurately put into words just how love feels, and this is yet another beautiful example. (We simply MUST go, or else)

You said you liked me. I said I liked you. Now what?

O how my heart longs to hear it’s love’s song…