unedited

Today I wrote to an old friend whom I still love quite dearly.  

Lately it seems as though I've been editing most of my emotions out of my correspondence with her.  I mean ... I have been sharing with her... but it definitely feels like a "watered down" version.  I think this is because I was afraid that if she saw the real intensity of my emotions, she might be afraid.  Or perhaps I thought that it wouldn't be "fair" to her... to just lay all of those emotions out to her after having NOT communicated for so many months.

I cannot take it anymore.  I cannot take the editing.

This morning, without shame, I've been passing emails in the hall, and wearing my heart on my sleeve.  Maybe even some of the things I've told her haven't even been nice things for her to hear.  I don't really give a fuck.  That's where I am at this morning.  I am just feeling so hurt, and I'm pouting, and I KNOW that I'm being juvenile. 

I know that we are friends though, before we were lovers.  And that has to count for something.  Right?

I miss her:

I miss the woman who gave me this:

When you come to the edge of all the light you know, and are about to step off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly. ~ Barbara Winter Patrick Overton

I wish I could tell her I love her.  I loved her then and I love her now.  I miss her.  I want to thank her for showing me that I was able and because of her I now know that I am able.

I miss her.