2.22.26

Dear O, 

I've been writing to you for a thousand years and I'll write to you for a thousand more. Thầy translated a legend in one of his books about two lovers. In the story, one lover left for a very long time. The day she finally returned home, she found her partner sleeping on his desk. He woke up and asked "Are you really there? Or is this a dream?" She who returned replied "If we don't truly live in this moment we have now together, then all of this might as well have been a dream." I don't want to live in only a dream with you. I want every dream and every waking moment with you. I want to live in honesty with you. 

I thought I'd write more poetry when I fell in love. Sometimes I do. Instead I am just trying to notice what comes up for me, what already exists. You have so much wisdom. I am grateful you share it with me. Today was a hard day. I cried a lot, was angry for so long my stomach hurt. But after we spoke with each other and with our friends and I walked out into the snow, I felt a sense of touching my solitude again in a real way. I walked into the snow which was falling at such a steady pace. This has been one of the longest and most beautiful winters of my life. I wrote this in a letter to you this morning. I told T earlier this week: I realized I'm not in charge. I don't know where love comes from and I don't know where it goes. I wondered about the snow too. When I walked up towards my room I noticed my shadow and the shadows of the trees projected against the wall. I felt close to myself then too. I need to linger on that a bit more. The softness that emerged: my shadow, the trees, and the snow...

A while ago, H told me she saw my child self very clearly. We'd been living in the same room for around three weeks by that time. She told me that just seeing me walk around and laugh and smile and talk, my child self was very present. Even when I hear you drink water in the middle of the night, she said. Something about someone seeing me like that disturbed me. It felt like she reached inside of me and touched something I didn't give her permission to see. I'm sure there will come a day when I wake up in the middle of the night and you will be there and you will bring me a glass of water. I look forward to that day. For now, I'll hold myself and breathe. 

I know you're there and I know you know I am here. 

Yours in every lifetime,