Well, hey there.
Again.
.... he says, as though you read this.
Well. Anyway.
Happy birthday, young woman. I hope it was an amazing one, even if it was a simple one.
I was thinking about you today.
Stop. Back up.
Let me try again.
Katie. Hello. Happy birthday. I hope you're well.
You are well, aren't you? That's what I like to think; that you're doing very well. It is the most pleasant fantasy for me, y'know? (well, sort of, anyway)
I went running alone, tonight. Put on some meditative music, and thought of you. The entire run, really. I wished I could have given you a present. Something other than.... this? Which you won't even come to read. But, I can at least pretend. I certainly dare not reach out to you, out of respect for you and your wishes, made clear.
The silence has stretched long between us, hasn't it? Half a year, almost, now. I always hold on to the hope that I'll hear from you again; that we'll pick up where we left off, in our last conversation. Of course, there's part of me that's terrified that if you were to ever come here and read this, you'd give me the missing answer, at last.
And so, once again, I allow myself to grasp desperately to the hope that your silence is at least... not finality.
That's kind of sad, isn't it? Usually silence is concession and finality unless refuted. And yet, in this context, I cling to it like it will save my life.
Well.
Anyway.
I was thinking about how old I'm getting. 33. Can you believe that? Of course you can.
I've been finding myself contemplating death every now and again. Not enacting it. I mean.... I worry about it. Which I guess I should say, I have an immense amount of respect for it. I wonder if I died, what would my last thoughts be of? Would they be filled with regret? Or maybe my mind would allow me the peace of tranquility.
I know I would think of you, somewhere in those final moments. No question.
This is coming out muddled. Let me try again.
I don't have a good relationship with my parents. Which is to say, I don't have ANY relationship with my parents. And so, I've spent some time equipping myself with the knowledge of their eventual death. And I've made peace with the fact that, if they or I were to die right now-- tonight-- I would have no issues with the transition. I harbor no hatred, but also have no questions to ask, or demands to make.
I've not made that peace, with you.
And it's not because I'm angry, or bitter, or... I don't know. Feel entitled to anything.
I just..... I just know I haven't. Don't want to, really. I simply can't bring myself to abandon you inside my own head.
I know that's silly, and selfish, and shameful. And I have no defense. And this is the part of the letter where I'm relieved you aren't reading, because you'd likely feel either A.) Angry, B.) Guilty or C.) Both.
It's really rather similar to the coal analogy we shared last time we spoke, though. Y'know?
I don't know. I just... still care. I still think about you ALL. The. TIME.
I often wonder how often you think of me, too. Have you managed to bury me beneath the endless waves of transmuted anger? I still have no defense to offer. And if you feel I've yet more anger left to have directed at me-- and rightly so-- I understand. Y'know?
Part of my is relieved that you at least feel something. That the bitterness and anger you feel toward me-- and by extension, things that remind you of me (or maybe that I remind you of)-- mean something. Anger is at least passion, right? If you simply didn't care, and felt nothing. Felt the merciless zero if ambivalence or indifference... then I would have lost all hope.
So. Wow.
That was a little more sobering than I meant it to be.
Anyway.
Let's just move on.
Did I tell you the kitten story?
I don't know if I did, so I'm just going to type it. I feel it's the closest to a gift I can offer you.
A few weeks ago, I was out running by myself. Toward the turn-back point on my run, there's this crossroad where the running trail meets a main street. A lot of wild cats live here. Partially, I think, because one or more houses leaves food out for them (which, unsurprisingly, skunks eat as well. Heh).
Anyway anyway.
I just happened to be running at a time when a batch of not-too-old kittens-- maybe a month? definitely not older than two-- were out playing. There had to be... half a dozen of them? And there was mama-cat, sitting off to the side. Lazily pretending to not be concerned about me, but nonchalantly, totally naturally keeping an eye on me.
These kittens. My god. It might have been one of the most adorable things I've ever seen in real life. The were... playing? Hunting? Each other. They were all different colors. There was an orange one. And a black one. A white one. A black-and-white one. And a tortoiseshell one.
They would crouch down real low, and wiggle their little butts, and go leaping across this huge 2 foot gap at their sibling! And pounce on their butts. Or maybe stop suddenly, and run away. Or maybe they'd just watch each other, and chase each other around this sapling tree in the middle of their little... nest place. A couple of them tried using mama cat as their body shield. One of them, after chasing away on of their family, stood there looking all triumphant. And the mother swatted their backside playfully. And they jumped SO. HIGH. And ran directly away. It was awesome. Another bushwhacked their sibling to hard and unexpectedly, they flipped over their own head, doing a front-flip, in surprise.
One of the best parts was when these two were staring each other down. They both got down on their haunches real low, and wiggled at-the-ready, and charged each other! But then, when they came within no more than 3 inches of one another, they realized the other wasn't going to be the chicken, and they jumped straight up in the air at the same time~ paws sticking out and down in a frightened, sloppy "v" before landing and running away at right angles to each other. I laughed out loud, and I think I startled a couple of them.
I watched them for maybe 5 minutes? I desperately wished I had my phone, so I could have recorded them. But what I really wished was that you had been there to see them with me. It was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I was sad that you couldn't have seen it with me.
I'm obviously totally not doing it justice. But I just... I wish I could have had you there.
...
Times like this, when it's late, and I've spent a long time thinking about you, I feel very small and alone. I still show my vulnerability and weakness when no one is watching sometimes, y'know? I Can't show it when.... anyone would see. What would they think?
Hah.
But yeah. I don't know. Sometimes when I write, that's how I feel. As though I don't have the fortitude to hold that shield up any more. And I don't know why I would hide it from you, anyway. I'm not afraid to have you see this. To see me like that.
You know, oftentimes I still feel like you would be good for me. Any time I bring you to mind, I find myself-- more often then not-- trying to be in Wise Mind? Reconciling what I would think, or say, in empathy. I've tried hard to condition myself to change the way I think and act when it comes to you. And despite your anger, I wouldn't... respond similarly. Even so far removed from me, you still inspire me to be a better person, Katie. And that's the stone-cold truth you'll never read. You'll still an inspiration for me, even today. Motivating me to try and rewire my neuroplasticity so late in life, because the way it was with you-- and still is now, sometimes-- was so horribly 'wrong'.
Many times, I still think I got the better of the split, you know? Because you've been so much more inspiring for me than I'm sure I ever have been, for you.
Anyway.
It's getting kind of late (its 12:45), and I just wanted to .... type this letter. And let you know I was thinking of you today. On Your day.
I hope you're well, and your life is good.
I hope you are happy and healthy.
Happy birthday, Katie.
I wish I could give you more. DO more, for you.
LessThanThree
11:50 p.m. - 2014-10-14
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