Dear G

I'm crying tonight because I'm lonely. So lonely. It came on like a car crash. I'd been driving along, thinking things were fine and then suddenly I'm a wreck. I realize in spite of the many great friendships I've had in my life, I can't think of one person I could call right now and just cry on the phone and they'd be available and know me well enough to help. People are too busy, too occupied by their own things, too distant, too inaccessible. I think that's part of why you and I make me so desperately sad. You are *right there* and want to be there for me all the time, but my hope of what we could be is getting smaller and smaller. The more I've tried to explain the depths of my heart and my faith, the conversations I want to have that actually lead to growth and understanding, the more odd and distorted our connection becomes, the less I feel I can trust you. Your responses show me you *don't* get it, our talks are disconnected and don't ...

I've been crying all morning, missing you, knowing you're just blocks away and that you'd love nothing better in the world than for me to fly down the hill and burst in your door, saying, "let's go get breakfast," or, "let's make pancakes." The sun would come out and we'd sit cozy under your pretty wool blanket on your yellow sofa and laugh about things we read online. You'd tuck my toes under your leg and the day would stretch out before us, ours for every minute, and it would go by so fast. You'd try to make my every dream come true today and forever. It would be so fun, but you wouldn't know how to meet the deep yearnings of my heart. You'd try as long as you had breath, but you'd mostly miss the mark because you don't know how to really know me. Because you aren't asking the one who made me. You haven't spent enough time with him to hear his quiet voice. You haven't surrendered, over and over until it s...

Calm fills my body with soft cotton. I am deeply quiet, distantly interested in the world around me. I enjoy the flowers on my walk, but I must keep them to myself. I can hear the emptiness in my mind, echoing footsteps in a clean warehouse. My thoughts are light as seed fluff, floating gentle and free but wary of the shadow animal that disappears at the far edge of the light. I'm able to carry on, but I know the loss will both blunt with time and continue to wound me as it catches and cuts. For now, my mind is suddenly unoccupied with trying to figure out an impossible question, suddenly free to muse over problems that are finite, ideas that can grow. I am alone.  My dreams are simple and peaceful. No more being torn in two, they're New Start dreams. Building things, meeting people, the mundane. My down comforter is soft and light. I keep remembering we still need to cut yours down. Not the only time something weightless felt so heavy. We've been through this cycle at leas...