Letter

Right now, I am a little bit drunk, which means that my thoughts may be less restrained, but perhaps it is a good thing. If the past is any indicator, perhaps restraint has contributed to some of the problem. And since I have promised not to hold anyone responsible for expectations that I have not explicitly made, I ought to say something now.

I was troubled by your last SMS, unsure whether you believed it a sufficient response or if it was meant to shrug off a potentially difficult conversation. The flaw or beauty of text messaging depends on how much or little one wants to communicate with the recipient. "Me too." It is quite ambiguous about which of my feelings you are identifying with—presumably, my “I’ll be honest I’m disappointed.” But, my disappointment is different. Am I upset that you've cancelled on me Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night in succession? A little. Were it an isolated event, it would be a non-issue. But my disappointment, stems not from a specific instance—namely whether I see you this weekend—but relates to this persistent and unchanging pattern.

I don’t want to tread over the same tired ground—begging for attention from one who purports to care about me—as I am sure you are weary of having to point out your overcommitted schedule, responsibilities and lack of spare time. But, it shouldn’t be like this. I’ve always agreed with you that we all ought to have our own lives and not necessarily live for one another. Still, that doesn’t mean I should forfeit my desire to actually be a part of your life. What I could never figure out is why you would actively seek out a serious relationship if you knew you didn’t have time to maintain one. It didn’t occur to me that when you were expressing your ever-decreasing availability, it was a euphemism for ever-decreasing interest. That is, maybe you do have time for a relationship—just not with me.

Nobody is that busy.

We left these issues unresolved, to be discussed after Japan. Perhaps I should have insisted on it, but I was just happy to see you on your return, content for the moment to leave it all at the door. I now think about the few times when we did get around to talking about compatibility, you always ask me what I want from a relationship: Marriage? Children? To me, these aren’t requirements. But this is not to say that I have no expectations or needs.

What I need is something that cannot be squeezed within the confines of a few hours once a week—a willingness to be a part of my inner life. You can’t do this via text messaging. You can't experience that over IM. You can't catch all the tiny little bits that accrete to a loving relationship through a one-minute telephone conversation.

I’m in love with you, but I’m not feeble-minded nor am I in the business of being any man's mistress. For the last month, you’ve been keeping me at arms length. And I didn’t/don’t understand why. It scares me to posit a guess for fear that it might just be realized. If you're seeing someone else, want to see someone else, or no longer care to be with me, then please be honest. Even if we can’t manage my confidence, then at the very least it would be an improvement in managing my expectations for things to come.