Conversation in IM last night
Andy: It's important for me to see you.
Me: smile Like I said, I've already made my plans and I intend to visit, even if it's only for a short while.
Andy: I know you don't like me as much as I like you, but it's important to me nonetheless
Me: Dearie, I never said I didn't like you as much as you like me. I... Wish I could say how much I still think about you, and wish for things, but how much I'm doing my best to just know that, in however way it works, I'm still yours, and you're still mine, in some odd way, despite the distance and limited time.
Andy: Ugh
Me: Sorry, I definitely did not word that right.
Andy: It's okay, Don
Me: smile Like I said, I've already made my plans and I intend to visit, even if it's only for a short while.
Andy: I know you don't like me as much as I like you, but it's important to me nonetheless
Me: Dearie, I never said I didn't like you as much as you like me. I... Wish I could say how much I still think about you, and wish for things, but how much I'm doing my best to just know that, in however way it works, I'm still yours, and you're still mine, in some odd way, despite the distance and limited time.
Andy: Ugh
Me: Sorry, I definitely did not word that right.
Andy: It's okay, Don
Seriously, now, I'm really ********' confused. I suppose this will only make sense to the people who know my situation with said Andy, but, really. It just made me so angry initially that he'd have the audacity to think I don't like him as much as he likes me; I've told him in so many ways, in so many words, that I care for him so much.
Christmas Letter
There's so much to say; there's never enough time, or space. No point in padding it -- it messes up the message. Still, I wanted to initially ramble on and on about how much meeting you meant to me.
Andy, I say this to you because I know that you will understand the loving and awesome simplicity of this subtle message, instead of finding it offensive and negative; and it's something that I wish to say to you, after knowing you, with much pleasure, for only a short time when reminiscing about my twenty-two years in this reality:
You're not special, for to be special to me means that I am bound to my idea of you, and blinded to who you really are -- the changing, real, fluffy, human thing that's always in front of me. You're not mine, for to be mine you're no longer free, and when you're not free, I cannot enjoy you for who you are. You're not my idea of you; you're no labels that I or anyone or yourself may label you. Being aware is freedom; having freedom gives the capacity of love; being free, I can love you as I can love the falling leaves, or every flake of the winter snow, or every sip I take of a good cup of coffee or tea, or every bite I take of good, wholesome food; or a very hot bath, or a nice breakfast of eggs, or a sip of a good scotch, or the smile from a stranger that I do not know.
Things ever-change, people ever-change, I ever-change, everything ever-changes. There's no point in clinging to a fixed idea, a superficial label; there's no point in desiring the sunset to never go away, for, if that happens, the next day, full of awesome and subtle beautiful mysteries would never come.
I've said this before, and I'll say it again: you make so much happiness spring forth around me whenever we have our brief moments together. I love the now, I love the change, and I love you, for you are free, and yet, in small ways, despite our busy schedules, you are still here, like I am still there for you.
Andy, I wish you the happiest of holidays, and I am grateful and happy that your small presences -- as insignificant or as significant as they are at times -- always brings me that same, soulful smile that I gain whenever I sit down, take a deep breath, and look to the sky to see the changing weather, seasons, sun, clouds, and many other things.
Much love to you, dearie, always. May you always be free to be yourself, to do as you choose, and to be as you are; and may I have the blessing of awareness to enjoy the ever-changing, ever-different, ever-afresh you, until G_d wills reality away...
Love,
Don
Andy, I say this to you because I know that you will understand the loving and awesome simplicity of this subtle message, instead of finding it offensive and negative; and it's something that I wish to say to you, after knowing you, with much pleasure, for only a short time when reminiscing about my twenty-two years in this reality:
You're not special, for to be special to me means that I am bound to my idea of you, and blinded to who you really are -- the changing, real, fluffy, human thing that's always in front of me. You're not mine, for to be mine you're no longer free, and when you're not free, I cannot enjoy you for who you are. You're not my idea of you; you're no labels that I or anyone or yourself may label you. Being aware is freedom; having freedom gives the capacity of love; being free, I can love you as I can love the falling leaves, or every flake of the winter snow, or every sip I take of a good cup of coffee or tea, or every bite I take of good, wholesome food; or a very hot bath, or a nice breakfast of eggs, or a sip of a good scotch, or the smile from a stranger that I do not know.
Things ever-change, people ever-change, I ever-change, everything ever-changes. There's no point in clinging to a fixed idea, a superficial label; there's no point in desiring the sunset to never go away, for, if that happens, the next day, full of awesome and subtle beautiful mysteries would never come.
I've said this before, and I'll say it again: you make so much happiness spring forth around me whenever we have our brief moments together. I love the now, I love the change, and I love you, for you are free, and yet, in small ways, despite our busy schedules, you are still here, like I am still there for you.
Andy, I wish you the happiest of holidays, and I am grateful and happy that your small presences -- as insignificant or as significant as they are at times -- always brings me that same, soulful smile that I gain whenever I sit down, take a deep breath, and look to the sky to see the changing weather, seasons, sun, clouds, and many other things.
Much love to you, dearie, always. May you always be free to be yourself, to do as you choose, and to be as you are; and may I have the blessing of awareness to enjoy the ever-changing, ever-different, ever-afresh you, until G_d wills reality away...
Love,
Don
Is he... Dense? Is he stupid? Did I just say something totally wrong to say? I'm not even ********' sure what's going on with him anymore, or with me at the moment...