Friday August 25th 2006, 7:38 pm
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

My ghost,

I am trying to fall asleep midday. Thereís music playing in the distance, and the sounds of waves are crashing on top of the notes. I find that when I try to sleep, my body instinctively curls into the fetal position. I feel so vulnerable when I close my eyes. My thoughts become dialogues between us. My body sometimes quivers when I repeat your brutal and vicious words from our past conversations. Iím sorry I hurt you. I didnít mean for us to turn out like this. I am plagued by my past actions, as you are plagued with fear towards me. Itís so strange to know you truly fear for your life at this point. Iíve been so kind in the past. I honestly tried my best to love you unconditionally. I would have never exhibited the anger I showed you in the past if Robert hadnít convinced me it was natural expression. Robert made it seem as if getting angry was perfectly healthy and normal. It was terrible advice. No one should raise their voice the way I did, especially not to someone they love. But this does not negate the fact that I indeed loved you. Whatís more, I still love you. If I told you this, you would call the cops immediately, so I wonít let you in on this emotional secret. You will never feel my love again and I have to accept that. I am not a monster. I am a romantic who never got it right. I feel like a failure with good cause Ė Iíve failed. You were my fourth love. Four times Iíve tried to love with all I have and each time, something has happened with has broken the bonds of my Love. One reason I married you, beyond the fact that I loved you, was that I wanted something to work at, I wanted to keep us together when things werenít perfect. When you asked me to leave the apartment, I knew we were through. You gave up so quickly, as Iíve stated before, and destroyed my belief that our marriage could nurture us through those terrible times. Things have gotten increasingly worse between you and I. Now, you swear youíll kill me if you see me on the street. If that happens, youíll see that thereís not much left to destroy. If things continue like this, in terms of my defeats and destitution, there wonít any Chris left to punch or kick or beat up. But, as Iíve promised, I wonít bother you again. I wish things were different, and I suppose you do as well, but theyíre not. One day we may look back at this and laugh, but weíll be laughing together for different reasons in different cities. Until that day, we must make the best of what remains and continue propelling ourselves into the future. The waves wonít stop crashing and the music wonít stop playing just because we want to turn our heads and laugh, or cry for that matter.

ĖYour ghost.

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