Wednesday, October 29, 2003
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quote du jour:
"Friendship often ends in love; but love in friendship -- never." - Albert Camus
    

   
Sunday, 26 October 2003

There's a reason I was so quick to change the sheets on my bed.
Of course, it doesn't matter now. It didn't work.

When I came home from the station tonight, I could still smell you in my apartment. Damn you for that... Now I've gotta miss you all over again.

I next to never drink alone, but I went ahead and mixed a stiff drink before bed. I'll need it as an excuse in case I say something embarrassing later... Which, of course, is to say that I'll need it as an excuse in case I say something I really mean.

Saturday night, I said that the hoopla surrounding our relationship stems from the events of but only a handful of days spread across five years. God, how I was wrong.

I went through photos of the two of us tonight. Photos from the paper. Photos from Baton Rouge, Atlanta & D.C. Photos from Jonathan's. Photos from Lindsey's. Photos from places & times I can't pin down. I guess I had forgotten just how important of a role you played in my time at Oakdale.

You & I aren't just about a few days here and there. Sure, those are the stories that get told... but you & I are the spaces in between those times, too. I told you last night that I had given up on trying to figure you out. After all, five years of frustration takes its toll on a man. Yet, the fact that I don't know what it all means makes our friendship that much more special. If it's easy to figure out... there certainly can't be much to it.

I know that going to work tomorrow will be a return to routine. I know that "normal life" will take over. I know that my apartment, over the course of the next few days, will seem less empty. But I miss you tonight. I'm sad that you aren't here.

You would want to be here tonight. My sheets are cold.

I'll be honest. I was just a bit embarrassed to write those words a few sentences back. I was worried how you would take it. I've always accused you of it... but we've both danced around most of the serious topics in our friendship. I think I'm tired of dancing.

What now?

Why didn't we get honest Friday night? If we had, we would have been in bed a lot earlier Saturday night. I would have stolen you away before you were so sleepy. I have no idea what we would have done... or said... but I'm almost positive that it would have been time well spent.

Why did it take me so long to kiss you?*

I know I act as though I'm seven-years-old around you from time to time. I'm really sorry about that. I guess that it's because I don't get Alex time very often... So, when I do, I end up acting like that kid who's eaten entirely too many pixy stix. You probably have to look no further than Friday night for ample evidence of that.

I'm not sure how to end this letter properly. You probably have to look no further than the last paragraph for ample evidence of that.

This weekend was what I've been waiting our entire friendship for. Much of the bullshit just seemed to fade away and things seemed so very real. This weekend reminded me a lot of a warm July night three years ago... and that excites me and scares me. This weekend will be something we'll talk about for a while, but I don't want it to be just "the weekend." I want it to be the start of something more. I'm not sure what that something will be, but I think a friendship that's open and honest is a hell of a start.

My eyes are heavy and the hour is late. Besides, I've probably said plenty.

Love always,

<fletch>

P.S.
*You don't have to wait on me for such things, you know. :-)


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