Frayed Feisty Threads - Book IV

...the final note 1/01/98

         ...the final note

"God, can I ever not have the last word?"

Hanging up the phone after talking to you again, I knew I said too much. A guarantee to keep you at a distance...and then I can hold you accountable, not me. Inwardly, I sighed as I put the ham in the oven. What a sense of peace I felt after our conversation this morning.... Dare I also feel a sense of hope? No, I push that to a distance. I am no longer hoping for this relationship. And truthfully, our conversation this morning confirmed what I had suspected...that I loved you far more than you loved me.

I never dared to use the word love with you before. Now, with hope abandoned, I suddenly find this is the word that describes what I feel. Perhaps there is a comfort in the distance, allowing me to speak, after years of silence, my true feelings.

Musing over our parting comments, I hear, once more, the change in your tone. I hear you pull back, and I hear your confusion. And the restlessness that I had felt before descended on me once again. It was important for me to know that my own instincts about your feelings toward me were true, despite your lack of commitment through the years. I was not wrong about what I was sensing from you, what I felt with you. It was good to hear that from you today.

And knowing that I was cared about and have been thought about set my heart free....and my soul felt light, fanciful.....and hope dances about my heart, trying to find its way inside.

There is a lock here, on my words, on my feelings. Perhaps it is my tiredness from last night. Perhaps it is my own fear of never finding anyone who will care for me the way you did.

Swelling up from within is a rising tide of emotion. I want to run into your arms, to see your smile, to laugh and feel your arms about me. When I talk with you, my heart never stops its pounding, and my breath quickens, I imagine you here...I imagine you everywhere.....I see the light in your eyes, and the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Vignettes of you flow through my mind.....I remember that night in December oh so well! It was a fairy-tale night....you brought a peace into my life that night that lingers with me still when I dare to peek upon that memory. Swirling white lace and burning firelight ignited the desiring flames of passion. Abandoning all restraint, loving freely and loving fully....we danced to our own night music.

The memory of that night envelops me in its cocoon as a blanket wraps a child on a cold winter's eve. Its warmth and gentle harmony sway in my soul. And somewhere in the distance, a harp plays lyrical music that is no longer muted.

And in the beginning........."I'm a hearts and flowers kind of guy". Those words in your ad caught my eye and your voice sounded sincere and honest. I always thought that flowers were tangible evidence telling a woman she is loved, cared for and wanted. You never gave me flowers, and after some time, I knew why. Flowers, though beautiful, wither and die with the passage of time. They do not last. You did give me honesty, sincerity and friendship...all of which have endured the passage of time. I take comfort in knowing that.

But Dan, on a final note......it would have been nice to have flowers......

tuc 01/01/98