There are some things I’ve wanted to tell you, but I’m not brave enough to tell you face to face, so I’m going to start by saying it here…
Remember when you said to me, quietly, as we lay together in the darkness, back when we first started dating, “I really care about you”? That was a very long time ago, and I wish you’d say that to me more often.
You caught me off-guard when you asked me, half-asleep with your head in my lap as I ran my fingers through your hair, “Why are you always so nice to me?” and I just told you it was because I liked you, and because I had no reason not to be nice to you. But I wish I’d told you instead that it was because I loved you, and because it made me happy. Or maybe even just asked you if it was really so strange that someone would want to be nice to you…that’s what I really wanted to say.
I feel like the more I realize how much you mean to me, the more shut-down I become, and I think I’m pushing you away. I can’t bring myself to tell you, though, because it’s seems like such a cliché…and I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me.
Do you know that my entire body just hums contentment when you’re near me, when I touch you? Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? You have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, and I could spend hours tracing my fingertips over the lines of your handsome face, running my hands over that exquisite, deliciously swole body of yours. When you’re inside of me I can barely think through the haze of ecstasy that washes over me, and the way you look as you climax – so vulnerable and achingly gorgeous – takes my breath away. I’ve never been more attracted to anyone in my life.
Nothing makes me happier than just being with you.
You often write me sweet little poems where you tell me how you’re always waiting for me, and that you miss me…you even played your guitar and sang for me. But I wonder if you really mean it…because I can’t remember the last time you actually told me so…
It was like a slap in the face when you said, “I miss you a bit” and mentioned how it’d be good for us to “take a break” from each other, seeing as I’d spent “so much time” with you recently…all of 3 days in the course of 2 weeks before I left for another week on vacation with my family. And two weeks before I leave the country for over a month.
What exactly are you trying to tell me when you say, “I don’t want to build a relationship with you if you’re going to leave next year and go abroad”? Are you saying you don’t want to end up with your heart broken or that you don’t want to waste your time? Do I mean so little to you? Why does it have to be all or nothing? We might break up tomorrow for all you know – why do you insist on establishing conditions? I don’t even know for sure what I’m going to do in a year – why can’t we just enjoy each other for as long as we can? Who knows what will happen between now and this time next year…
Must you always remind me about how “poor” you are? I mean, really – when do I ever ask you to pay for me? When do I ever ask you for anything at all? I usually end up buying everything just so I don’t have to feel like I’m burdening you. I’m always the one who drives down there. I even bring my own towels when I stay the night. And we always take my car when we go out together. I understand that money’s tight, but it’d be nice if you’d acknowledge, with a little gratitude, that I don’t cost you a damn thing except a little time and energy when we fuck.
How do you think it makes me feel when you blow me off because you’re “tired” or “you just don’t feel like it”? Why do you even bother to tell me that you were “thinking of coming down” if you’ve already decided that, well, you have to work the next day and there’s just no way? How dare you ask me if I can give you an hour for something “you just have to do” [translation: play video games] right when I pick you up from work – that’s rude towards even mere acquaintances, least of all your girlfriend. Not many women would forgive such an affront – twice (don’t forget the first time you asked me out, you told me, “I was going to call you last weekend but I was playing video games”). I go out of my way for you at the drop of a hat; I’ve rearranged my entire schedule again and again so I’d have time to see you; I let you drive my parents’ car so you wouldn’t get motion sickness; I went out and bought all of your party supplies while you wene at the gym; I pay for dinner just so we don’t end up at some burger-joint every time we go out; but I do all of these things gladly, and I wouldn’t even hesitate if you would just…every once in a while…refuse, or even just put up a little more of a fight, instead of just saying, “Well, as long as you’re offering…”; or when I ask you to come with me somewhere, you come just to be with me and not on the condition that you give a shit about what we’re seeing or doing…I can’t “cost” you any less than I already do, and I’ll never insist on my own that you to pay for me, because that’s just not who I am, so is it so much to ask that you show a little chivalry and put me first sometimes, without making sure I understand that you “can’t be making a habit of it”?
When I needed to go to the doctor and you mentioned, if it was “okay with me”, that you’d like to take MY CAR, which we drove there in, and go out to the store if the wait was too long, I was silently furious with you, but you didn’t notice. Later on, when I cooled off, I forgave you because you stayed, but someday I’ll tell you that I might never have forgiven you if you had left me alone in the doctor’s office.
I wish you would listen to your doctors – your REAL doctors. You can’t keep putting off changing your diet and overcoming your coffee addiction. You may think that the only thing the doctors tell you is what you already know – that your joints need rest and your acid reflux will never get better unless you quit your bad habits – and that you can keep track of those things yourself, but you’re no more of an MD than me. And what makes it worse is that you know your family has a history of disease like cancer, diabetes, stroke, and heart attack. I just want you to take care of yourself…
I resent that you won’t do the one thing I’ve ever asked you to do: stop letting that fucking chiropractor adjust your neck. If you want to buy into the rest of his bullshit, fine – I don’t care. But is it so much to ask that you stop taking this one stupid risk with your life? That idiot is supposed to be correcting your posture and helping with your back pain – not snapping your neck like some kind of mystical “bonesetter” and calling it medicine.
Don’t you understand that I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt? It would break my heart if I ever saw you cry, and when you’re in pain it feels like something inside of me is dying.
It makes me angry when people dismiss you and let you down and are just plain careless with your feelings. It happens a lot, and I think its because you don’t protect yourself -you lay yourself on the line, no pretentions and no facades, and sometimes you put too much faith in people to do the right thing. I know you think you can laugh about it and just brush it off because you say “being a victim is a mindset”…and maybe that’s true, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t leave a mark. I can see it in your eyes, you know. And small things add up over time.
Don’t tell me its not a big deal when your friends don’t show up for your birthday party. Maybe they were all still hung over from their 4th of July celebrations the night before, or maybe they all just happened to flake out at the same time -just a mistake, just an oversight. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm. But their thoughtlessness just stuns me. I think they just don’t see what I see – I didn’t either, at first – that you’re a better person than anyone gives you credit for, and you deserve their respect. You’ve already earned mine.
I know I keep a lot of things to myself, and I spend way too much time locked up in my own head. I know my silence leaves you with doubts, and it seems like I’m holding you at arm’s length…but sometimes I need you to hear what I’m not saying, too.
I’m here for you, baby…I love you more than anyone. Just show me that you need me, too.
Tags: letter to my boy