Why do I…

read old letters? Why do I save them?  Why not delete/burn them?  I’ve asked myself this over and over….  and it’s simply because I cannot bring myself to get rid of them even after years of distancing myself from the subject.  I’m terrible with how I save things especially letters, cards, photos, emails..etc. However there’s an advantage also. I could create a of history of my life if I put into chronological order everything I’ve saved of that sort over the years. But, back to my subject. Love letters,…. or just plain notes and cards from people I care about. I haven’t allowed myself to go back and read some of them for a long time.  But… today I did. And I’m paying for it.

Why can’t love be simple?  When it comes to matters of the heart, it seems that everything gets all tangled up and it’s almost impossible to wade through the maze of emotions.  The only way I’ve found to get through the tangle of emotions is to distance myself from them… But even while maintaining this distance, my love is still there..like a hidden image in a picture only my eyes know how to find.  After all these years, I still ache with the loss.  I’ve come to a certain kind of acceptance that this will always be so.  And so, I deal with it… but my memories, at times, wash over me… and like an idiot, I allow, for a time, the unforgettable details to linger and dance through my mind and the warmth, love, longing, and desire, I allow to flair, spread, and envelope me until it’s unbearable… Then comes the extreme necessity to pull back…enforce the distance. That’s when the aching breaks through..reminding me why I don’t allow myself to remember.  And yet…
I will ALWAYS remember. 

And because poetry speaks to every mood, and because I love e. e. cummings, and because I don’t have the talent for words like the great poets, I’ll let Cummings speak for me in this moment:

“Whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.”
― e.e. cummings

“For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),
It’s always our self we find in the sea.”
― e.e. cummings

“I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
Alive
with closed eyes
to dash against darkness”
― e.e. cummings

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