Friday January 26th 2007, 3:19 am
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

To the fountain,

Two days after our wedding, you and I went to downtown San Francisco to wander the streets of this fresh and exotic new city while waiting for our friend Mike to finish selling his art on the streets. It was the day before Christmas and the streets were packed with last minute shoppers, desperate to find their ultimate gift for the holiday. Wandering westward from the Powell Bart station we found ourselves at the Yerba Buena Gardens, which happen to be sponsored by Sony Incorporated. It’s funny to think about grass and water having a corporate sponsor, but these things happen all the time in our consumer based capitalist society. Nonetheless, the park itself was lovely, yet only sub par compared to you. We played by the fountains, daring each other to jump into the running water. However the weather was brisk and we both knew that any fool stupid enough to venture into the water would suffer from the freezing elements which Mother Nature had no qualms dispensing her wrath. And even though neither you nor I was foolish enough to jump in, we were fools in Love. Furthermore, we didn’t care about nature’s consequences to our amorous wanderings. Our first test in trust was soon to be upon us, as we neared closer and closer to the freezing fountains. With your hands firmly grasping my hands, you leaned over the cement edge from where we were standing, tempting gravity and Mother Nature with your beauty. I held on as long as I possibly could, but my grasp was neither strong enough nor long enough to withstand the unforeseeable imminent future. Our hands briefly grabbed for one another in mid-fall, but our futile attempts were unrewarded by the bitter cold of the fountain’s revenge. With the wind picking up, our bodies quaked as the water surrounding us lowered our bodies’ temperature from “steamy hot passion” to “holy fuck I’m freezing.” We laughed as long as we could before the reality of the situation sank into our thoughts. Since neither of us had a change of clothes, we were destined to bear the wrath of our water-soaked ways. And so it was, we were two lovers drenched in a fountain, and it was lovely. Five months passed … working at the Academy of Art, I often spend my lunch break frequenting the same Yerba Buena Gardens in which we had our first lesson in trust. However, when I now sit next to the fountains which we once threw ourselves into, I ponder a long lost feeling that I no longer experience; you are that feeling which plagues my lunch hour. In contrast to our once foolish yet happy ways, I now feel somehow sadly wiser than I did during those lustful and romantic moments of our history. For me, wisdom has been brought about through a curiously painful process of loosing you, my love, like the loss of your trust I once gambled with on that fateful Christmas Eve day. Yet I have gained something quite peculiar in return – the ability to metaphysically perceive our historical love as something we had no control over. We were at the mercy of gravity and nature, as we have always been. And yet, the fountains themselves are also controlled and manipulated by the external forces of physics that govern the tangential outcomes of the present moment. If the moment were represented by a math equation, the future is the equals, the moment is variable, and the past is the problem.

-the liquid boy

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