Tuesday, November 03, 2009

Letters I'll Never Send, Vol. 3

Dear Mr. Right,

How are you? I hope this letter finds you well.

Me? I've been here missing you something awful. On Sunday I came down with yet another nasty head cold and ran out of orange juice and soup and tea, and you weren't here to get me some more. Saturday, before I went out with friends, I was having such a severe mental breakdown, similar to how I felt this summer, and you weren't here to console me. Yesterday I was feeling rather slow and sluggish from this cold and again- where were you?

Sometimes at night, when the full moon is glaring at me through the bedroom window, I am so aware of that empty space in the bed. Such a big bed with just a withering me in it. There's no way for me to position my body that will mimic the nook your body creates for mine. In the wee hours during a fitful slumber, my face seeks out that crevice your neck and shoulder forms just for me...the one that smells so clean and minty. This blanket is such a poor substitute for your arms around me, protecting me from whatever goes BUMP in the night.

I had this urge to bake you a cake the other day, but I didn't know when you'd get here to enjoy it. And I have a great recipe for lobster bisque that I know you will love- how much longer before you get here? They sell live lobsters at the Foodtown now, and I have a 5lb bag of whole wheat flour...

I don't want to be a nag; I don't want to rush you. It's not why I'm writing to you now. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I'm still here waiting for you, just like I said I would. I'm working and writing and raising my babies, and living despite this empty feeling inside me. Each day I paint on my smile and try to make it a better one than the one before. I work at loving me and life and work at enjoying the simple beauty of the trees outside my window.

I'm preparing for you everyday, or at least attempting to, but it's hard. Waiting for you has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life. Sometimes when I break down and cry "for no reason," I know deep down the reason is that you're not here by my side.

But I can be strong. Or at least give the impression that I am strong, until you get here. I can work and write and parent and cook and clean and live and BE without you.

Still- I'd rather not.


*smooches...writing another overdue letter*
and I'm closing comments if I see even ONE of you know-it-alls call me soft! HMPH!