How many times will I wake up from the same dream before I admit that you were my first love? Before I own to wanting you beyond lips and hands, to buckling when you walked away — because I asked, because I pushed and walled. This was, what, five years ago? And still the edges of it fizzle and cringe. I lose sleep tracing a labyrinth of wrong turns.

today I find myself writing to you again, same as our younger years. I guess I've reached the level of introversion where i feel the need to put down my thoughts in solitude later, lest they disturb the actual event. you will please appreciate that the following thoughts have taken an enormous amount of effort for me to put down on paper because the matter at hand is so tenuous. You came here the other day and you achieved pretty much all that you had set out to do- which was primarily providing much needed face time, explaining your stand to me, proving to me that my decision to leave was rash and generally making me feel very good about myself- inside and outside. I think it was a successful day for you in that sense- but not for me. I felt a little niggling sense of things not quite lining up, and I didn't understand why until much later.Now, if we put all the eloquent words and the bells and whistles aside. I couldn't help but notice that there was a distinct undercurrent of unease inside of you. your energies were all over the place- I mean you're generally very self assured, and were this time too, but it was almost like there was a dark curtain inside of you hiding something you didn't want to share with me for whatever reason.There was a lot of posturing in your words and in your actions.. they were almost theatrical, and 'designed' to make me happy in the shortest, most effective way possible. As if you were the ringmaster and i was the lion to be tamed? I could also sense a bit of darkness.. like you didn't want to be here. the slightest undercurrent of something basal.. fear maybe? what are you battling inside that is turning out all the lights inside of you? what storms are brewing inside of you? you seemed like you were walking on a thin, taut line with danger on either side.I don't intend to paint you into a corner with all this, and you certainly don't owe me an explanation for any of it. I thought about letting it go, because everyone is entitled to their own privacy, but I couldn't help atleast acknowledging it, because what kind of friend am I otherwise? Besides, I simply cant bear the thought of you being in distress and me not doing anything about it.I will just leave you to it after saying the following: hey, it's only me. I'm the same person I've been for the last several years, and I know you inside and out. I'm still attached to you emotionally and feel your pain and your joys. Whatever load you're carrying, if you'd like to carry it alone, please do. But atleast know that I know, I commiserate, and that I will hold your hand while you carry it. I'm here to stand with you in whatever you may choose to do. And if you ever want to talk about it, I promise never to be critical.. only to provide empathy and support.Know that you never have to make any efforts with me. Had I known that you were going through something somewhat dark yourself, I would never ever have tried to lean on you. You don't have to posture to make me happy. I derive my happiness from very simple things.. like the sound of your voice, or the fact that I got to make you a sandwich. If you painted this white, then let it be the sanctuary where you come to put down our guard. not raise it higher.

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