January 22, 2003
a Kairos moment
For some reason, I feel like writing a letter to every person who has ever made a lasting difference in my life.
To the only boy I ever fell in love with I�d say thank you. Thank you for showing me that true love really is possible outside of fairytales. Thank you for every single tiny little moment that I�ve filed away. Thank you for the smiles and the tears. For the joy and the pain.. I�d even say thank you for breaking my heart.. because without that I would have never known how strong my feelings were. How real it really was. And then I�d say I�m sorry. I�m sorry that I hurt you every bit as much as you hurt me. I�m sorry for that crushed look in your eyes when, months later, you saw me holding someone else. I�m sorry that we couldn�t handle it. I�m sorry that it wasn�t meant to be..
To the boy I lost my virginity to I�d say I�m sorry. I�m sorry that I broke your heart. I�m sorry that I turned away. I�m sorry that after all these years I can still get to you. I�m sorry that you never healed and that you play a game of �I don�t want to/no wait, I really do� with yourself every time we talk of getting together for coffee or drinks.
To the domineering, abusive boy I almost married I�d say, you�ll never know. You�ll never know how much you changed me. You�ll never know how frightened I get when I look back on our time together. On what I let myself become. On what a willing, submissive little doormat I was. On the kind of life I almost trapped myself into. On how much I wanted you. On the fact that for a while there, I would have gone back to you without a second�s thought.
To the girl who was more than my best friend for so long I�d say, I don�t know what I would have done without you. Because we got so close that at times we forgot that we were two separate people. And when we went out with boys the other one would come along. I have an everlasting image of holding hands with her, skipping down the street (we were seventeen) while her boyfriend and my boyfriend walked behind us shaking their heads in an amused, �what are we going to do with these two� sort of way. I remember locking ourselves in a room for hours. Not talking to anyone, not even eachother, but taking comfort in the silent company we shared. I remember drugs, alcohol, wild parties and car accidents. Hating the world and falling off skateboards. The way everyone connected our names until they became like one word. The way people do with couples that have been together for years.
And I�d write other letters. Letters I couldn�t bring myself to post here. Or just don�t want to get into right now. To my father. To my maternal grandfather. To my Personality and Prayer/World Religions/Jewish Scriptures teacher (three different classes, one teacher). To a friend I lost touch with years ago.. and maybe a few more..
7:24 p.m.