The letter she wrote pt.1.5/2 from “I hate to hate you”

Ian,

Last night in the still hour of 12 am I began thinking about the last few months with you. I was caught, frozen in one specific instance that I couldn’t seem to shake. You see it was 8 long years we waited. Time stretched so far if began to grow with us. As if we both were trees within a forest, growing roots – extending them through the hard clay soil. Our roots continued growing on opposite sides of this forest floor, hoping one day to finally meet ends and become entangled in each others. For years we would stand still, rooted in the ground, allowing the seasons to take over us. We began in spring, as we grew emerald leaves that developed into a deep rich canopy. Our roots began to grow closer, summer time came around, and the small delicate leaves morphed into thick angle pointed pieces. When the wind blew, the leaves began to shake back and forth,  we would wave at each other. Sometimes, the sun would shine so brightly that when each little hand waved at me, I could see the life within. After a while, our colors began to brighten as we shivered together at the first breath of fall. Each day we would dress up for each other. You in ruby red and shades of brilliant yellow – and me, glowing oranges and pale pinks.

For weeks we would allow this energy to consume us whole. It was only until we began to lose our foliage and stand there, naked in front of one another. We began to reach for each others roots, growing even closer, winter arrived shortly after this, we still admired each other throughout these transitions. Frost lightly covering your exterior made me admire you even more, as I knew this cold layer was clinging onto a warm, brave soul inside. Its attempts to hurt you never lasted, you stood tall for weeks, knowing that soon it would be spring. This is the dance we did year after year, over and over until…

The time was 10:23 pm, I remember it because I wrote it down. I was parked on the side of the road waiting to see you for the first time in a long time. I recall quickly getting ready to see you as we agreed this was our moment and you were correct. It was. The moment had presented itself over and over and over and over again, but for the first time we seized the moment or the the moment seized us? I guess that’s how is happens, right? The moment doesn’t capture you and show you what to do, it simply presents a shadow, and we chose to unveil its spectrum within. Like a box of cracker jacks, we opened it – excited to find the prize inside. Expecting a small toy or mini game. The prize was not something as temporary as a slight distraction. The prize was more than a simple momentary diversion, but a moment to get lost in and bathe in (for as long as time allowed).

The moment we walked up to each other and looked into one another eyes – I found that feeling again. I had relocated a single emotion I had remembered feeling in my early teens. This unshakable comfort I had always found within your eyes instantly returned. this was all I could think about as I held my box of things at your doorstep. One by one I looked through the contents of the box, finding each and every puzzle piece from our jigsaw. It was that single moment of looking into your eyes that with one sole glance spoke everything I had wanted to tell you over the past 8 years, and yet this simple act of picking up a box including our time line had spoke just as loudly. Suddenly, I felt alone in the forest again, but awaiting clear cut. The trucks moved closer and closer clearing the entire pathway. Before I knew it, I took my final breath and had fallen to the forest floor.

Of the moments we spent together, we were magnetized from the start. Words spoken were almost felt as the frequency of each other sentence spiraled into the orchestra within our ears, playing light and beautiful symphonies. Even now, I can still hear the music playing.

What I want to say, in this sprawl of thought and powerful imagery is that I see you. I see you for your past and who you were, I see you in your words, your stories, your fears, I see you in your own eyes and ofcourse – I see you as the person that you are today. Ian, I always have. I see all your light and I accept all your dark. I only have ever wanted the absolute best for you. As I said before, there is a light within you, one that you know exists. It seems as though you’d rather keep it hidden within instead of releasing it externally and that’s okay. One day you will stop fighting it and allow it to just be. But I won’t leave your side until then, I will be here, I want to be there. If there is one thing I have noticed it’s that life is always better with you around. I’ll say it again. And maybe this is partially out of the comfort you have always brought me, that just seemed to stick or perhaps  it’s the fact that loving who you are seems to be the easiest thing I’ve ever known how to do. It does become tricky through our rough patches and conflicting minds, but there is always love present. Even throughout the absolute worst moments we have experienced together, love was always present.

Maybe this is my ability to always see the good in people, or maybe it’s me actively deciding to make the choice. Maybe it was the separation that drew you closer. You never failed to mention that I was the one girl that got away – the one you wish you never let go of. Well Ian, I’m here to tell you that I never let go. I never went away, we just began living our lives wanting each other in them (I’m not sure if there was ever a point that I didn’t want you around. I love having you around). And the true beauty of you and I is that we never end. The raw truth is that we avoid allowing ourselves to love one another because we are both afraid – as we always have been.

Read “I hate to hate you” here: I hate to hate you: Part 1/3

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The Bonsai Tree

Image result for bonsai tree

I would like to start our new fiscal year with a short story.

I’ve never been one to appreciate or see the beauty in nature, however I was recently reminded of something that I now hold dear to me. My Mother showed me my old room over skype on New years day. To no surprise, it had been converted into a storage room for old furniture and picture frames. As my Mother turned back towards the foyer, I asked her to stop.

Mom: “What’s the matter?”

Me: “The bonsai tree.”

Mom: “What about it?”

Me: “Can you bring me closer to it?”

Mom: (Chuckle) “Sure. You remember she gave this to you before you left? I haven’t moved it, and I’ve taken care of it ever since.”

Me: “Heh.. Cool, cool…”

Mom: “Do you miss her?”

Me: “Nah… I just want to look at this, that’s all.”

I don’t know what has gotten into me, but before this day I had never taken the time to examine and notice all of the small details of this tree. From its foliage, to its strong trunk, to how tightly packed the soil is.

After I had gotten off of skype with my parents, the image of the Bonsai tree by my window sill was stuck in my head. Even though it was still small, I knew that it took years for it to get to its current state. I sat on my couch thinking about this tree for over an hour.

I felt so peaceful thinking about it, because it’s as if it has seen so much yet it isn’t bothered by what’s going on around it. It’s not worried about the chaotic nature of life. It doesn’t have a care in the world, and one day it will die as gracefully as the day it came into being.

I hope to get closer to the same nature as my Bonsai tree in this new year.