Thirty Two 03.16.10

I have to apologize to you. There is so much I am keeping from you now, there is so much I am sparing you from because I choose to afford you that ignorance if it means you'll have bliss. I wouldn't even know where to begin anymore, and none of it matters, divulging the fullness of the truth to you will not lighten the load. It will not bring us closer together, it will not breed more understanding between us, it will not make me seem like I am someone you would want to keep in your life. In the end, this is just how it should be. My concerns are not yours to share any longer. What happens to me is of no real consequence for your journey and in fact, it should not be. I can only move forward, and show you the tender pink of my palms, holding them up as if to say "I surrender."

I have to ask you to forgive me, because it is never my intention to keep things from you. You know that I would never purposefully omit anything from you, I have tried and failed SO many times. The only things I ever have been able to keep from you are things I was keeping from myself. I wish this were the truth of the matter now, but this, this I cannot help. I cannot tell you these things, because then you might be motivated out of pity to remain in my life. And I will not have that. I would rather have your distance, than your pity any day. It is not a matter of simple pride that separates us now. It is a matter of health. It would be codependent, sick, and wrong for me to tell you these things at this point. To expect them to matter to you, to expect you to give me anything beyond what you have given already is ridiculous. I am grateful to you, so grateful that you have given me anything at all.

I'm sorry I can't ask you to be my friend or my companion where I am going now. I'm sorry that it will seem like I am withdrawing and putting distance between us purposefully. I ask only that you try, please try to understand, my intention is pure. I want to protect you. I want you to remain focused on yourself. I honestly think at this point, I do not want you to think about me at all any longer. It would be best if we both come to this realization and admitted it openly: you will be better off without me in your life. Truly, I want the best in all things for you, at present state I cannot give you my best. I can't muster good or fair for you. My only option is to do what is left, to do what is right. That is to keep my distance, to continue to keep these things from you, to keep myself far far away from your reach, from your sight, from your thoughts.

You might be wondering now, will I stop writing these letters? The answer is steadfastly: No. But I will not let my tongue fly the way I used to. You will hear no more details of the turbulence or the whining scream of my dying engines. I will give you no eyes for which to view the tailspin that ensues or the smoking rubble I will have to crawl from in the end. I will lick my wounds in silence and stitch them closed myself. I will hide the scars from you. Your ears, your velveteen ears will never bear the sounds of my sobbing. You will never learn the truth of this time of hardship for me because I wish to spare you the melancholy. Let me give you joy, I'll find some sunshine in my days yet to come real or fiction to share with you.

I will show you just my love, just my teeth bared in the whitest of smiles. For truly it will be only thoughts of you to bring some real and lasting happiness for at least a while. But I will not show you my eyes grown swollen and red, and I will not let you hear the tremors in my voice. I am about to show you a magic show, fading from view, you will see only puffs of smoke and bright costumes worn for your amusement. If this hurts you, if this drive you from me, then I again, I feel compelled to beg for your mercy. It is out of my supreme consideration for you that I bar you from these sights and never tell you what will transpire in this time. I will paint myself with stripes and walk with tigers, hoping they do not smell my bacon scented sweat and fear.

I will attempt to appear normal as if nothing is amiss. I will not bother your friends for one iota of help. I will not contact them to tell them what transpires, and if they ask me, I will keep this from their view as well. This is how it should be. You should move on with freedom and grace kissing the soles of your feet at every step. I should appear jubilant and carefree as well. And so, I shall appear that way for your sake. And I will hope that someday, you may come to understand that I kept these things from you so that you could continue to move on and keep what we have had between us unsullied in your memories. Now I will only wonder, if there will ever come a day when you stop reading these words. I will only wonder if the day you do not return anymore was yesterday, or today, or tomorrow.

And if you should stop, then maybe I will know at least some peace I suppose. I will hope that I have done what is right for you, and allowed you to walk free. I will have granted you the final ability to never have to think of me without a smile on your face or a chuckle in your heart. I would rather you think of me with warmth and sunshine peppering your mirth than sadness or sorrow or pity gracing your lips. Let there be nothing left to say between us for the rest of the time you read these letters except: I love it when you smile.