Letter Never Sent: La Reverie Kikanamaso

This evening Kalamazoo entertains a notion and delivers in torrents. I watch in awe from my perch at these wide windows and experience a deep and satisfying pang of nostalgia for something that hasn't happened yet, that is fated to happen sometime, somewhere -- with you, ideally -- or may never happen but is still lovely to contemplate anyway.  And for the first time in my stint within these clinic walls I don't mind if time slows down, if dawn takes a bit longer to arrive than days previous.

This is now how I think of you:

Stormy weather that offers more than a hint of savagery.

A genuinely warm welcome to a surprise appearance.

Haunting melodies in an empty pool.

Lengthy late-night IMs filled with promise (but never any promises).

A tuxedo cat suddenly petitioning for the very affections you declined.

A spontaneous yet fleeting interest in me in the space between seemingly a million moving farewells and exactly one hundred and four blood draws.

A grand exodus to Gotham, to commotion and close friendships, to bright lights and fifth-floor walk-ups, to exhausting yet fruitful rehearsals and an enviable future where your talents will be much lauded -- and rightfully so.

A meandering drive to all points west, to the loneliest stretch of highway and the smell of sagebrush, through meteor showers in the high desert and ominous fog that sweeps in from the Pacific, to finding a sense of belonging in the frigid depths of the bluest lake as well as in the eager embrace of junkyard scholars who would only think to celebrate -- never chide -- intense feelings and hard pursuits -- and rightfully so.

(Jesus, we can't even seem to head in the same direction, let alone cross paths.)

I don't care for squandered opportunities, or passing fancies, or derechos that never live up to their full potential because we couldn't make the time to fully appreciate their fury. There's already too many excuses to let things fall to the wayside, and as it stands they probably will. No matter what I might offer, you will graciously smile and nod and likely never give it a second thought. Meanwhile, every time there's a downpour, I'll wonder where you might be.  When this fever dream hustle of a summer passes and our routines reestablish themselves, I'll wonder if you'll make an effort to keep in touch.

I'll wonder if we'll ever get to a point where you'll call me in the middle of the night because you're lonely on the road and know I'm the only one still awake, or because for the first time ever you want to hear my voice, and the enthusiasm in it when I see who's ringing me at whatever ungodly hour it might be.

And I know, Turnip. I know how such talk makes you anxious. But, please, don't be. This is only a reverie -- my reverie -- and it's about all I have seeing as you're not here and likely won't be anytime soon. Or maybe ever.

But how I wish you were here.

On a night like this where the rain comes down in buckets and we both have nowhere to really be, I wish you were here. Not to pin you down and keep you forever. Not to twist you up in my desires and steal your heart. Not to sway you to be wholly at peace with my unbridled admiration and then demand that you match my fervor.

I wish you were here.  That's all.

I can give you a million reasons why this isn't such a bad thing, but I'd much prefer that you come to this conclusion on your own. Someday, somewhere farther down the road. Or maybe never.



Damnit, Turnip.  Just get here when you can.

Fervently,
JVH
2013/07/22

Slut-Shaming (It Happens to Guys, Too!)

July 21, 2013 - 1:16 a.m.
Justin: I keep thinking of getting out of here and finding you waiting for me at home. We could lounge on the couch, eat good food and then fall all over each other.

July 21, 2013 - 1:19 a.m.
Justin: I miss you, Amber. I miss my lover and my friend. Those were never mutually exclusive things. I miss you confiding in me. I miss being someone you trusted, and wanted. I wish I knew the right thing to say/do to win your (seemingly fickle) favor again.

July 21, 2013 - 1:23 a.m.
Justin: I can't believe of all people you were so quick to write me off. Such a shame.
. . . Fuck.

July 21, 2013 - 1:26 a.m.
Amber: You know what turned me off on you? It was two things - first that you wanted me too much. Second is that you have such a fucked relationship with every girl you know. You've had sex with every single girl you're friends with. Girls come into town, fuck you, and leave. And you go to visit girls . . . You just sleep with every girl. I don't think you know how to just have girl friends. And I really felt uncomfortable that every time I met a girl you know, they felt like they had ownership of you. I just, I just won't deal with that.

July 21, 2013 - 1:27 a.m.
Amber: Two moments ended it  for me. The first was when you just showed up to my house. The second was when you told me **** had that dream about you.

July 21, 2013 - 1:30 a.m.
Justin: You invited me over for lunch. I came. I didn't know the offer was no longer on the table.

July 21, 2013 - 1:32 a.m.
Justin: Also, no one has ownership of me. I would have given that privilege to you - if you were actually serious about a relationship. We could have discussed all sorts of boundaries. But you ran and then blamed it all on me.

July 21, 2013 - 1:33 a.m.
Justin: I can't believe how judgmental you've turned out to be. Throwing stones at glass houses is never the sensible route. Tourist.

July 21, 2013 - 1:39
Justin: Really, I was hoping to recapture the magic that I truly thought we had. But now I know how little you really think of me, which is a terrible shame because I truly think the world of you. What a dummy I am for thinking that you could possibly mean what you said/did, right? *I'm* the asshole for taking you at your word. Got it.

Good riddance.

Easy Fix

I don't want to have this conversation online or via text. It's tedious and non-productive.

If you're serious about engaging me and really working our shit out -- which is all that I've wanted -- you know how to reach me.

And I think it's time you seriously consider why having me as both a lover and a friend is so detrimental. 

'Cause from what I know in my own personal experiences -- in my experiences WITH YOU -- I do both things incredibly well.

I want to be in your corner, and I want you to be in mine.

So if any part of you is curious about how we can accomplish just that, call me. Or don't. I've done everything I can to let you go. You're welcome to come back, but I'm done campaigning for your attention.


This is something so easy to fix . . .
That's what I find most frustrating.

Reconciliation

July 10, 2013 - 10:57 p.m.
Velander: Of all my romantic interests, you're the only one who has ever had a will to come back and work shit out. That either speaks volumes about them or me.

I fear for both of those scenarios.

July 10, 2013 - 10:58 p.m.
Oshinn: you're a piece of work, jus
not all of us have any strength to even want to deal with it :P

July 10, 2013 - 10:58 p.m.
Velander: Yeah, go me.
Fuck.

July 10, 2013 - 10:58 p.m.
Oshinn: so yeah anyway it's like 10 hours from here to chicago
let's think about that
because you are not shitty and it is not worth wasting even a second of thought on

July 10, 2013 - 10:59 p.m.
Velander: Thanks for saying that.
It's really appreciated, seeing as I was especially contentious with you at points.

July 10, 2013 - 10:59 p.m.
Oshinn: well you're not now, and now is all that exists, so let's not fret

July 10, 2013 - 11:00 p.m.
Velander: I'm sorry.

Endurance

I'm probably the furthest thing from your mind these days, but rest assured you are still very dear to me.  I don't know if that means much of anything to you, but I gotta believe that it just might.

I'm still here, Beth.  Despite all the bad breaks and hard hits, I'm still here.  

And I still hope for the best.  Every single day.

I hope.