Love Letters
Feb 27, 09- (by Chris Mecham)
- one response
- Sober Salon
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I moved. I hate moving but I moved and in the process of moving I came across a bunch of stuff that I thought I’d gotten rid of, among them the letters I received from the last object of my obsession during his last committment to the Idaho State Correctional Institution.
The letters that said he was sorry. The letters that said he loved me. The letters that said let’s wipe the slate clean.
The letters that I he sent me before the last time he got out and then showed up in the same meetings I go to and treated me like either I didn’t exist or I was the most disgusting person he’d ever known.
I kept them and treasured them away when I still in love with the idea of us - when I still held out hope that we were possible. I put them away before he got out and broke my heart again making me believe that I’ll never know love. I put the letters away and the state put my lover away in prison again. I stayed sober. He didn’t.
And now here I am with a perfectly suitable suitor anxious to find a way to fit in my life and still too broken to be present.
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Hugs, Chris. Old letters always have a way of opening up old wounds. It always helps me to really sit with and feel those feelings. Who knows–maybe working through those old hurts might help you be more open to this new guy.