It is a rare day indeed when I can say I have foiled you. You keep me very much on my toes. In fact I am there so often that I was thinking of investing in some pointe shoes (there’s a picture none of us need.)
I love telling you that I love you.
My Darling I love you.
I sometimes feel that I don’t tell you enough. I know we tell each other all the time but I need to take the opportunity to get in first when it presents itself.
I’m not sure if you knew this back then, but I love animated children’s movies. Recently I told you that I saw the movie “Frozen.” I loved it.
During the movie, the main character sang a song titled “Let It Go.” I felt it pull me in. I was enchanted. I was mesmerized, and I became weepy. The song touched me, and I felt the words resonate deeply within me on a personal level. The song could have been my mantra for parts of my life during the past 14 years.
Upon returning home, I immediately searched and downloaded the song. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve played it. I connect with it.
Your heat is getting to me, Sir, and you make me melt.
My Animated Darling
You still have the power to surprise me (if I may use a tautology when I exclaim – “but that shouldn’t surprise me?”) This is the first time I can recall you discussing your affinity with children’s animated films.
I am not familiar with the film and have only recently become acquainted with the song. The composers have pedigree, with one having been involved in two Tony Award winning productions. On my first hearing I felt it sounded like Kate Bush meets Tori Amos meets an old fashioned Broadway musical. I can see why you were drawn to it. Not only is it a powerful song in its own right but the character as originally conceived was a “baddie,” then was gradually re written to become the heroine.
You humble me when you say I make you melt. It still surprises me to hear after my past transgressions. I still shake my head in wonderment at my own actions. Not only how you found me again but how you have forgiven me. Let it go indeed.
I just wanted you to know something simple and pure. When I see a message alert on my phone and upon checking it, I see that it’s you – it thrills me to my core. My stomach flips, and my heart races. I feel flushed. I am giddy like a school girl, and it’s all because I know you’re there.
When you call and say “Hey Baby,” I get weak-kneed. You do this to me Sir. You make me blush. You heighten all my senses. You make me giggle and scoff, and you keep me on my toes.
I think about you all the time.
Carry on sweetheart, carry on.
I love to send you messages, though sometimes they seem inadequate. I still would rather hear your voice though. It is nice to know that as we sit before our computers, often composing this very blog, that you are just a message away. We remain silent for extended periods then one of us will comment. I can feel the love.
I adore the messages I receive from you, especially when I rehearse. I leave the phone on silent but still clearly visible on my music stand. When you text bomb it makes me smile. Fortunately you have never made me lose my place or add some extra notes, but I know full well that day will come.
I remember you telling me about her before you and I even met. I asked you if there was conflict in your heart. I told you that I would not stand in your way if she was your true desire. You reassured me she was not; you hadn’t even dated her. You loved me, and wanted to be with me. She didn’t compare to what we had. She was an annoyance and nothing more.
She was relentless in her pursuit and interest towards you. You just wanted me to be aware of her because you wanted to be honest and open. I admired that about you. I believed you. I trusted you.
I did something tonight while you were asleep that made me think of you. Now that in itself is quite the norm. I mean I have this blog, your blog, our chat logs, our photos, your photos, our memories and our songs.
Now when you bed down each evening I normally don my headphones and take a brisk walk around the local golf course. It clears my head and lets me spend an uninterrupted hour just thinking about you. I choose the golf course because it is the most visually appealing part of town. You know I find my current location a little dreary. I have made some excellent friends here but in the way of cultural diversions I find it a little wanting. Anyway tonight I chose no play list at all. I usually choose one that fits the mood, often based on the tone of our last conversation. I was thinking about one of “our” songs. You only recently told me of its meaning, I confess that I’d forgotten and how I’d poisoned it for you. I’m sure I once knew, but my years are catching up with me darling and my memory is not what it used to be.
Anyway I decided to play it. I needed to see how it felt. I know I played it over and over for you. I know I meant every word of it at the time, and I feel I still do. So I suppose I was wondering several things: How did you feel about me doing that? Do you think you could listen to it again without the rancour? And lastly if you think you could, would you listen to it for me and tell me how you feel?
The song you will of course know. Written by Peter Allen and made famous by Olivia Newton John. None other than “I Honestly Love You.”
You Will Always Be My Darling
From Sir With Love
After reading your letter early this morning, I have pondered on your request all day. I decided to do as you so kindly requested, and I played our old song tonight; I played it many times. I listened to the words, and all the past memories came back with such a force that my heart hurt terribly. I heard the haunting melody as well as absorbed the meaning and I couldn’t help myself – I wept. I am not sure what kind of tears they were; I’d like to think cleansing ones, but if I were honest there were bitter and resentful ones mixed in with an aching that was sharp and real.
This song was your anthem to me. I remember watching you play it. My eyes followed your beautiful fingers as they lovingly caressed the piano keys to this tune, then I couldn’t help myself – my eyes were drawn upward to watch your face as you played. You were caught up in the moment of music and love. I was held captive in rapture. I felt what you meant for me to feel. I was in tune to you (sorry for the pun). I ached.
That was taken from me. What was once beautiful withered and died. I abhorred that song when I heard it. I steered clear of it. I turned off the radio if by some slim chance it came on. I couldn’t face reality. Sometimes, as you know, I still can’t; consequently, I am trying. I wonder if I should have refrained from bringing up the subject of this song since you had forgotten, but you have asked me to never hide the truth from you or my feelings. I respect and love you enough to adhere to your wishes.
My hands are even shaking a little as I type this. I know what these words are going to do to your heart as well, and I wish with all my being that I could shield you from yourself. I am listening to the song as I compose this letter. I am so deeply sorry.
On a positive note (I’d like to end it as such), I feel like I have climbed this ugly mountain. I can see the other side. I like that you played this song again after so many years. I can imagine you playing it, because I had the privilege of seeing that first hand. Thank you for that memory. Hopefully all the bad will be replaced by good. This is such a new road to walk on. Thank you for walking it with me. I honestly love you.
While I do not profess to be Mrs. Browning, I feel the essential need to pen my thoughts and feelings to you in these letters. The words may not be eloquent, but they are most definitely from my heart and soul. You know how I feel, and I hope that my words will do their utmost to portray that feeling in the written form.
First know that I love you truly and unconditionally. These intense feelings have never changed since the day we met despite a lot of heartache. Let me apologize in advance for any words I may write that may cause you distress and hurt, but I will always be candid; I will never be dishonest with you.
Sometimes I may seem disjointed, but that is a testament to how I feel because it isn’t always easy to define the depth and intensity of those feelings. Mere words on a page seem paltry at times, but they serve a modicum of purpose in expressing my love.
I am not even certain that you’ll ever see these letters, but I suspect I might share them with you at some point. You are a soul mate and kindred spirit. I adore you.
I love you always
Yours most ardently,
It is so humble of you to quote Elizabeth Barrett Browning. You and I both know that you have written your own exquisite poetry and I trust that we may see it grace these pages as this tale unfolds. Your words are a thing of beauty and I treasure every syllable.
You write of unconditional love and my heart is warmed. I know that love and feel it too. I know the heartache and hurt of which you speak all too well. Much of it I have caused so anything that you feel may be a little too barbed for my allegedly tender ears I entreat you to just let loose. One of your many compelling strengths is your honesty. For you to temper it now would be a crime, especially if its only purpose was to spare my feelings.
When you found me after my years in the wilderness, I was afraid. The feelings that I had shoved down, fought against and ignored came rushing back. I was too much a coward to express them initially. I felt manifestly unworthy, and still do. That however changes nothing. I am unashamedly, unabashedly and unconditionally in love with you my darling. I have waited a long time to tell you again and I fear it will be at least another two decades before the novelty even begins to wear thin.
I see how complete our re connection is. You say that you may share these letters at some point, but you are three entries into our story (if I may call it that?) and already they blink at me innocently from my own computer screen. To make contact again has been astonishing, to be able to tell you how I feel again after all these years has been a blessed release but to have those feelings reciprocated, well I am speechless.