Echoes - Letters to Jessie

 Myspace Blog 08/22/2007

Memories - The First Kiss (July, 1998)

Current mood:contemplative

This would be our third date, really our third date in a row, since we ended up trying to see each other every day while I was in school, and made it about two weeks without a break.

In any case, we met again after class at her apartment on 13th street. We spent the entire afternoon walking all over San Diego, since neither of us had a car, and today we really didn't feel like taking the trolley anywhere. We talked for hours, about anything and everything, about favorite flowers, life in the city, life in the country, life in a perfect world. I think we both decided that we wanted to live in the mountains, undisturbed with our children, but with a huge city just over the hill so that we would always have something fascinating to do.

We kept on walking along talking about the people we saw, and what their lives must be like. We stopped at the Baja Grill and had seafood tacos. Needless to say, given our respective tastes, she loved them, and well, I just ate them. But it was still a wonderful meal, because here, finally was someone we could talk to about all the important things, and all the inconsequentials, and have it all mean something.

After diner, we continued our wanderings, ending up down by the piers just after sundown. We sat down together on the bench at the end of the pier and just watched the waves stroll by. I don't remember exactly what prompted it, but at some point, we just turned to each other and kissed.

At that precise moment, about a hundred yards off shore, a tour boat started letting off fireworks. It was so perfect, such a wonderful metaphor for what we were feeling. It's the kind of thing you see in movies, and think to yourself "that never happens in real life." But, for us, it did, and it has always been one of our most cherished memories.

(See also, pics, Memories, San Diego Pier 1 & 2)

Extract - A last letter to Jessie (January, 2001)

Current mood:morose

Jessie:

Well - I don't know what I'm going to say, but I know I have to do this. I've just arrived home from Claire's, but I guess you know that; if you really are in a position to know anything now. I find myself desperately wanting to believe that all of a sudden - like something theological in me has decided to finally snap, since I can't quite believe that you're gone. No - that's the problem... I know that you're gone, and I don't want to believe it.

My mind is doing some really crappy things to me right now. It seems like I've shoved enough of this down to deal with things, and then it echoes. Somewhere the sound of them saying "We're going to stop now" is still echoing, still playing just for my ears.

If you could talk to me now, I know the first words out of your mouth would be "I'm sorry." Well, it's becoming a chorus, and it really isn't helping anything. We've been sorry to each other a billion times since I met you, and that part really hasn't mattered a bit. We've always loved each other enough to decide that the things we were sorry for haven't been that important.

I guess I can't help saying I'm sorry here though. Unless you somehow find a way to write back, that's my prerogative. Though I must mention that if you are somehow reading this and do somehow answer back, I'd be the most grateful man in the world.

I'm grateful that the last words we said to one another were "I love you", and not any of the inconsequential spiteful things that could have had that honor. I'm glad I got to know you for a while. I hope you know that - just how much you meant to me. God it hurts to use that past tense. There's something leftover that keeps on wanting to say "This is just a bad day. She'll forgive you for it tomorrow." But I know I'll wake up tomorrow, screaming in my head, and this awful thing will still be true.

I'm sorry for not checking on you more often. I know intellectually that it isn't my fault that you died, and I know that my counselors will be repeating that for years, but you know I can't ever fully accept that. There will always be a little demon that says that if I'd treated things a little more seriously, if I'd called someone or started CPR sooner, things would be alright.

The aren't alright now. Everything I've ever wanted for us is gone now, and I don't know where to go next. Something snapped and left your body behind, and now I feel like I'm in some sort of centrifuge. I feel guilty for how scared your body made me, but I know that was just the edge of this leaking through. I know that I've managed to pack most of this away so that it doesn't hurt, but it doesn't work perfectly. And I know that at some point, probably several, things are going to break through, and I'm not going to be able to handle it.

I've thought before that things might be easier without you, but I've always known it wasn't true and hated myself for the thought. I feel awful that the thought sneaked in when I called 911.

Staying with you was a bet, that the difficult times would be more than outweighed by the wonderful times. I think you know that I won that bet. You know that I wanted to keep on winning.

You were trying so hard, doing so well. I thought we were going to make it thought this, like we'd made it through so much before. No one prepared me for this. I guess you really can't. I feel cheated. I paid my dues to have a wonderful life with the woman I love, and now you're gone.

END

Extract - A first letter to Jessie (July, 1998)

Current mood:nostalgic

Jess:

Well, I'm afraid you've kept me up again. But I don't blame you. I needed to do some thinking... I needed to find myself, a little.

The reason I'm trying to say this in a letter is that I always think clearer on paper, especially when I'm emotional. I get nervous, and say things all wrong in person. I know I'd screw this up.

When you called tonight, and said you were starting to fall for me, you hit something. I don't know exactly what it was, but it showed me that I needed to be a lot more honest with myself, and you.

The truth is that I'm falling for you too. Well, really, have fallen. All I know is that when I'm with you, I'm smiling and happy and carefree and the world is just right. And all I want is to know you - who you've been, who you are, who you want to be. When we're apart all I'm thinking about is being with you again. I'm not sure what that is, but I realize what it could be, if we let it.

All I ever wanted was someone I could talk to, that I could explore the universe with, that wouldn't laugh at my heart. You're all that, and more than I could ask for. You're smart, you're pretty, you're the kind of person that makes it worth living through the rest of the world.

I thought I could do this, that I could hold enough of myself back so it wouldn't hurt to leave. But now I know, whatever we become, part of me will be left behind. I knew, right from the start, that we had to be friends. I hope we still can be, whatever happens, because you're a wonderful person.

I don't want to hurt you, or deceive you about this. But I guess maybe we're past that point, aren't we? No matter what we do now, it's going to hurt when I leave.

I don't know what we should do now. I don't even really know what I want to do, because I know I couldn't stand to leave you behind, if we let ourselves be like this. I just can't help thinking that if we keep on worrying about tomorrow, we might miss something really special today. I don't have all the answers you need, but I wanted you to know you aren't alone in this. We can do this together.

-J



Cliffside

The edge ahead can be
so dark,
and deep,
and scary.

The rocks below could
tear me apart,
confuse me,
take me away from myself.

The wind
tears at me,
draws me nearer,
whispers my name.

I feel my hands
sweating,
slipping,
loosing hold.

I feel myself
falling,
time rushing by,
the next page turning.

And now I feel
butterflies,
wonderment,
adrenaline.

The future flashes by
holding hands,
sharing stars,
hazel eyes in the morning.

I'm lost in a fantasy
a dying man's ecstasy,
beyond all control,
wondering what could be real.

And as the rocks fly past,
I wonder,
Would you catch me?
If I fell into you?

-J

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