Blessings and Sacraments

Hello beautiful,        

It seems we did not get this part right either… I thought perhaps we could keep the best part of what made all of this seem so worth it; like never-ending Gobstoppers kept in our back pockets… But I think I may have over-reached. It seems we were not able to see it through; or maybe I’ve just given up too fast…Maybe the further movement to our separate corners is a feeling I’m simply feeling on my own, and your emotions are far more willing then I think… but I can never tell with you, and frankly I’m kind of tired of trying to figure it out. So I leave you with this blessing - I leave you with this prayer - I leave you with a wish…

Fuck it; I leave you with nothing but these words on a page…

I love you.

In that over complicated, overly described, self-gratifying, self-qualifying, partitioned, particular, conditional, contrived, all encompassing, meaningless way that I do.

I wish I could have loved you even more… but we never got there.

I hope you get there. I hope life, and love, and joy wash over you like anger in a fit of rage. I hope you find a balance and fullness in all the things that you seek. I hope that magic knocks at your door and someday you let it in; and that they are as beautiful, and intelligent, and gentle as you need. I hope they sit with you, and talk with you, and listen as if your words were Beethoven and your breath was Shakespeare. I hope that they laugh at your hard spots and delight in your soft. I hope they love you in a way that needs no words. I hope you are happy; Now and Always. That you have more than you ever need: enough to cover you and those who share your blood. I hope your home is always safe, that your family is always yours, and that you are brave in the face of every challenge. That nothing is lost on your account; but that you find abundance in the struggle; and that you drink up every opportunity as if you have never known pain, shame, or loss. I hope you come to see yourself the way that I do (Minus the judgments and the criticisms - relegating them to their place - but with that ‘b’ word I’m so fond of).

Because you are…

You are sexy and bold, brilliant and creative, noble in your purest form, and connected to an essence of history and tradition that squires and monks aspire to… You love words, and music, and ideas, and ideals, (and yes people) on such a pragmatic and visceral level that they become a thing of beauty unto themselves; and that makes you lovely and sweet and fragile in a way that I’m grateful I got to see. So I offer you words… I pray that you find more words: Perfect recherché words that say exactly what you need to say, when you need to say them. I offer you moments when the words do not come fumbled, or too tied in difficult emotion; but where they fly free of you; clear, clean, and heard by the ears of those who need to hear them.  I give you poetry and spoken word, I give you speech and conversation, I give you philosophy and vocabulary, and I give you song and performative voice. I give you the power to touch words in spoken form the way that you touch story in written. I offer you nothing but the silly things I wish for you. I wish you sex, unencumbered and unafraid; continued sobriety; career and published work; and friendships that are mutually satisfying. I offer you me, but better; different; easier: a soul wrapped in a different body, in a different time, with a different name, who will love you all the more. I even hope you get those Kenneth Cole Shoes; and I’m sorry I did not get them for you… I thought about it; but chose dinner at Pete’s instead. (I hope that you never have to suffer snooty restaurants, Tiffany stores, church on Sundays, or requests for ice cream again… Or if you do, I hope this time it is not such a battle.) I hope you battle less; that you fight less; that you say yes more, and that those yes’ bring you more yes’. I hope you are always free. That you, as you, is always enough; and that you, as you will be, will be more than enough. I wish you 40 more years… if you want it. Four decades of life and family and lessons and heartbreak and love and pain and joy and abundance and sacrifice and beauty and grace and work and art and sex and books and bad films and perfect pop songs…

And more…

Goodbye beautiful, I wanted nothing more than to have more of you…