This is something I wrote a while back and just now felt up to sharing.
That laugh
I haven’t heard in so long
So genuine
So deep
It makes me smile
Just to hear it
But somewhere
Deep inside
It makes me sad
To know it was you
Who made them laugh like that
Not me
But I love them enough
To wish them well
And hope you make them smile
For a long time to come
And hope someday
I’ll be able to make them laugh to
This is the second part of Love Defined. It includes three letters instead of just one, so I've labeled them to make it easier!
From him to her:
They always told me I was an idiot. I believe them now. Two years haven’t softened the blow of how true those words are.
They said I shouldn’t respond, but I couldn’t leave your letter alone.
Just like I couldn’t tell you the day I had to leave. And I couldn’t tell you the reason why. Just like I couldn’t bear to tell you I was at your graduation. Or that I haven’t been in Australia for the last year and a half. I’ve been two states away.
I couldn’t bear to tell you. Even now the words are sticking in my chest. Because I still love you. And I know what love is.
Love is you not minding when I had other friends.
Love was you always texting me good morning.
Love was you making me smile when no one else ever could.
Love was you staying up until midnight to talk when you really needed to sleep.
Love was you getting out of bed every morning when you didn’t feel like it just to spend time with me.
Love was you helping me with homework.
Love was you never getting upset when I had to leave to spend time with my siblings.
Love was you caring for me for two years when I never even contacted you.
And I’d like to say it was love that kept me from writing you back. But I can’t. It was fear.
That last time we were together you said there was no fear in love. But there is.
There was fear as I drove away for the last time, and a car crashed into me.
There was fear as I woke up in the hospital room, completely disorientated.
There was fear as I realized I couldn’t see anymore. Or when they told me I might not ever be able to see again.
There was fear as I got on a plane with my sister, bound for a hospital in Australia.
There was fear for six months as they tried to restore my sight.
But the most fear I’ve ever felt is when they told me they couldn’t help anymore. That I was blind for good.
And I’ve spent almost two years trying to come to grips with it. But there’s so much I can’t do.
I can’t drive or paint anymore. I can’t watch the stars or write you letters. I can’t take care of anyone. Which means I can’t take care of you.
When I came to the hospital, I wanted to call you. I wanted to tell you what happened.
They told me I would be stupid to drag you back into the relationship with someone who couldn’t see. They told me I should just leave you out of it.
And I believed them. After those first few weeks, I couldn’t imagine bringing you into my mess. I couldn’t walk without banging into things. I couldn’t feed myself without making a mess. I couldn’t do anything I should be able to do.
I was so afraid, I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I had been crushed. I had so many plans for our future.
I had planned for us to be married, now that we’re both eighteen. I planned for us to have a small house with a pool for you to enjoy. I had planned on us going to church at the little chapel on second street, which had the best pastor and people who cared. I planned on getting you away from your parents and starting a life of our own.
Now I can’t take care of you, and you deserve so much more than I can give.
I always meant to come back. But how can I? They told me I would hold you down. That I would make it worse. And I believed them.
I’m sorry I did.
I’m sorry for walking out on you when you needed me. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I left you alone with your parents. I’m sorry I never had the courage to tell you what happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you. I’m sorry you had to be alone. I’m sorry we both had to be alone.
I’ve been an idiot, and I know what that means.
I walked out on the one person who cared most for me. I stayed away from the one person who understood what I was going through. I denied you the ability to help me. I denied myself comfort. Being an idiot is not talking to someone for two years because it feels easier than confessing.
I’m a coward and I know it.
I’m not even brave enough to come tell you in person. I’m not brave enough to let you see me, and not be able to see you back. I’m a coward. I won’t even ask my sister to drive me the six hours to your house.
I know I’m a coward, and an idiot, and a lot of other things.
But I’m also in love with you. Two years haven’t changed that.
If you get a call at three AM, you’ll know who it’s from.
From her to him:
They told me you’d never write back. I guess they were wrong. They said you’d probably just wanted to dump me. I’m glad to know they were wrong about that.
I want to be mad at you. I really do.
The anger is welling inside of me. You had no right to close me out.
Love sticks with someone even with it’s tough. Love doesn’t just leave. Love does the hard thing.
And I hoped you knew I was willing to do what you did for me all those years. You stuck with me, even when life wasn’t easy. You held me when I needed it.
I wish you had realized that I wanted to be there for you.
But as much as I want to be mad at you, I can’t.
I know right where you’re coming from.
And I know how much bravery it took to tell me after two years.
So thank you.
Thank you for telling me.
I’ve been sitting at the computer, trying to figure out how to tell you that I think we can still be together.
I think you can still care for me, and I’ll care for you.
I think we can make up for the two years apart.
I think we can manage.
So please come to me. Or let me come to you. We’d made a perfect team, you and I. Just like we used to.
Don’t just shove me away because you're scared.
Don’t just leave me here all alone.
Don’t let your pride get in the way of our love.
Don’t let yourself believe you are any less for this.
I don’t love you any less for this.
Please don’t leave me here without you any longer.
So call me. Find me. We’ll work this out.
I love you.
From him to her:
They told me you’d never come. I guess they were wrong. Because even though I couldn’t see you, I never felt so aware of your presence. A part of me seemed crushed by the weight of that love.
That love that drove six hours just to see me.
That love that ran to meet me, even when I couldn’t see where you were.
That love that forgave me, and held me.
That love that stayed up until midnight talking with me.
That love that cried with me over the lost years.
That love that said we could try again.
I don’t know how you could love me like that. But I love you for it.
This is a short story I wrote a while back. It is kind of a poetical style of letters that I haven't tried before. It will have one more part posted next week.
They told me sixteen was too young to fall in love. They told me that it wouldn’t last. That I would forget about you soon enough.
They told me that I didn’t know what love really meant.
But I knew.
Love was the time I was mad and locked myself in my room, but you sat silently outside my door and waited until I was ready to come out and talk.
Love was you doing the dishes for me one night just because.
Love was cutting a date short because you knew I had homework to do.
Love was you picking me up at the door of my work when it was pouring rain.
Love was you laying in a field with me, watching the stars.
Love was sitting next to me in church because I couldn’t stand for the songs.
Love was you prodding me to get out of my comfort zone and try new things.
Love was being willing to get up a five AM to drive to a doctor’s appointment with me.
Love was standing up for me in front of my dad.
Don’t try to skew my perception of love. I know what it is. I know my parents were trying to show love to me when they told me I would forget soon enough. That obviously you weren’t good enough for me if you would leave like that.
And I know what stupid is. Just in case you were wondering.
Stupid is taking a plane to Australia without telling anyone. It’s running away without telling anyone why. Stupid is never writing or calling, or texting to say why in the world you left.
They told me it was because you didn’t care, but I couldn’t believe that.
I know what caring is.
Caring is showing up on my birthday and finding me not feeling well, so canceling all your well-laid-out plans and just watching cartoons with me instead. Caring is telling me about your plans for college, when all we really wanted to talk about was plans for our future.
They told me sixteen was too young to plan my future. That there was a whole world of options out there and I shouldn’t just take the first thing that looked good.
But you told me we would prove them wrong. It’s been two years, and we haven’t proven them wrong.
They were right. There are other good things out there. Like graduation ceremony’s, and ice cream on a hot day. There’s watching my friends start life’s, and jobs at boutiques.
But those things all ring hollow without you.
Love is being there for the ones you care about. It’s about not making them stand up to get a diploma alone when their parents are both working and can’t come. It’s about being there to share small moments. It’s about celebrating others' success together. It’s about communication.
They told me if you cared you would write to me.
They were wrong.
Because I know you care about me. I know you still love me, you just don’t want to admit it.
Love is saying all the things you know need to be said. Love is writing when it’s hard.
I know, because I didn’t want to write to you.
I know what hard is. Hard is starting the first day of a job without anyone to celebrate with me. It’s having to drive yourself to the doctors when you’re in so much pain you’re not sure you should be driving. Hard is coming home every day to an empty house, and an empty mailbox. It’s not attending college because you can’t drag yourself out of bed that many times a week. Hard is having to explain what your best friend isn’t here when you don’t even know the answer.
Hard is something I’ve come to know far better than I ever thought I would.
They told me I didn’t have any hope of recovery. I wanted to prove them wrong.
But recovery is such a broad term. Recovered is being able to drive myself everywhere. Being able to get up four days out of seven so I can work. Recovered is being able to make my own meals, and not be crippled with pain every time I get up.
But recovered is not being able to live normally. It’s not being able to go to college. It’s not being able to chase after the one person I ever truly loved.
Recovery is something I’m always working on. Some days I do better than others.
But two years have taught me a lot about how to overcome. But I’ve never gotten used to doing it without you. It’s not like it used to be.
Remember how you used to help me up the stairs when I was tired? You used to always bring me home early because you didn’t want to wear me out. You used to say it was okay to not be like everyone else, that you liked me just the way I was.
But was it my problems that drove you away? If so I wouldn’t blame you. Even I feel repelled some days by my own health.
I haven’t really forgiven you for running, but I would understand if it was just my health.
They said you were too blithe to be saddled with a depression like me. They said I would slow you down. They were right, but you never seemed to care.
From the first day I met you, I’ve slowed you down. That first day I came in, wobbling on my crutches after surgery and you helped me. Every day after that you helped me to class. I slowed you down at your games because you would always help me to a seat before you went to gear up. I slowed you down at friendships because people never really liked how much we stuck together.
Was I slowing you down too much?
They said our love would never last. That teens had no idea how to build a lasting relationship together.
They were wrong. Because long after you left, I’ve still loved you.
And I love you even now, with every fiber of my being. I miss the way you said goodnight, pressing a kiss to my knuckles like we were a regency couple. I miss the way you opened doors for me. I miss the way you always fell asleep against me during movies. I miss the way you always complimented how I looked, even when I looked terrible. I miss having a reason to get up every day.
But I wanted to let you know that even if you called at three AM I would answer and want to talk.
Even if you couldn’t talk about us, I would listen. Even if you just needed someone to say hello to, I’m here for you.
Because I don’t know what dragged you away. I don’t know if it was me, or someone else, or even you.
But I do know that I love you.
They said my love would fade over time, but they were wrong.
Love waits, checking every day for news for you. It holds fast to friends, even when they let go. Love dares to hope that you still love back. It waits patiently for you to be ready. Love picks up the phone every time it rings, hoping it will be you. Even at three in the morning.
Love was waiting for you. Please come back.
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| Our family on Easter! From left to right: Rebekkah, my dad, Rose, Scott, Michael (rear), Sarah, Grace (rear), my mom, and me. =) |
