Listen. I love you. I always will, you should know that by now, and I will no matter what, which I hope you also know. And catching up is always nice. It’s nice that we can talk now without our conversations devolving into bitterness and rage. God knows it took a long time to get here and I consider it a hard-won prize.
But what I need, you can’t give me. You know how I say things and you think I’m a loon and you wonder why I’m so weird and why I feel it necessary actually to say those things out loud? That’s what I need. That’s what I need in return. I need to say them and I need to hear them said back to me. Can you understand that?
Don’t misunderstand, I don’t mean that my saying it comes with a pricetag or an IOU or that my expressing myself to you means that you owe me anything. Quite the contrary. In the sense that you will never owe me anything for the affection I feel for you, I’m yours and always will be. My love, whatever it may be worth to you, will always be yours and I give it freely and hope it makes your burden a little lighter.
But that stuff that you don’t know what to do with? That stuff that freaks you out and makes you clam up and disappear? I need that. It’s like oxygen to me and I can’t live without it.
Words. Expression. Emotion. I need to send them out and I need them in return and, let’s face it, kid, these are not your forte. And that’s okay. I don’t know what you need because you don’t often say what you need, but I hope you’re getting it, whatever it is. I hope your life is filled with it.
As for me, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve been a little off my game these last 48 hours - you always have that effect on me - but the turnaround time is light years shorter than it used to be and I’ll be back on track any minute now. And then I’ll just keep waiting, I guess. I’ll wait here until there’s some expression coming my way. Until someone somewhere can match me emotion for emotion. Go ahead and laugh, I know you will. I know you think I’m ridiculous. Sometimes even I think there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell of finding someone who can match me where this is concerned. But there’s got to be someone in the world, just one man is all I need to find, who’ll appreciate this part of me. Who’ll think it’s fantastic. Who’ll know what to do with it. Who’ll know what to do with me.
And if there’s not? Well, then I’ll just be alone. It’s too soul killing to spend one’s time trying to make someone give you something they just can’t. I don’t want to do that ever again. I’m stubborn enough to make being alone work. I’m stubborn enough to be happy doing it, too. I’ll be happy out of spite, if I have to, but I won’t settle for getting less than I need ever again. It’s no good for anyone that way, and good is what I’m looking for these days.