Love Letters

[sweepthefloor]

This is all about love letters. I have written some of the best love poetry and love letters in times without love at all. In my world, I make it all up, as if I were in love this is what I would write.

If you have a letter or have written a letter, sharing would be sweet.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Beat You With A Stick?

I start this Love Letter thread with a letter written to me, a few years ago by my best friend. Naturally, I have his permission to display his words.

My letter to him revolved around: Would you ever hate me? What if I beat you with a stick? The following is the response.
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I hope, in this late hour, I can lucidly convey to you how I feel: There is a part of me that believes all love is conditional. My love and friendship for you are based on the condition that you do not beat me with a stick. Similarly, our parents, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters love us on the condition that we do not beat them with sticks. But, then, this is only half of the story on love, a subject I explored to its very depths when G---- and I broke up.

I still remember the first night I met you: hanging out, drinking, with a group of people behind the large wall that overlooks the highway. I asked you if you were old enough to be drinking an alcoholic beverage. You laughed. Of course you weren't. The first time we really hung out was a few months later, when I drove you home from C--- G---. You gave me a ring, a good luck charm you called it, so I would get home safely. You were adorable. Innocent but fearless. Vulnerable but completely independent. Helpless under your spell, I developed a huge crush on you, which lasted many years. Even now, as I think about seeing you in San Francisco, emaciated and lost, I remember the anomalous mixture of warmth and unrest I felt in your presence.

Not that I was much better off in those days. But somehow, you and I have stayed friends despite the craziness of our pasts. I'm still your friend because I saw what was inside you a long time ago, when you bought a homeless guy a sandwich outside 7-11. I'm still your friend because underneath your (forgive the expression) bipolar exterior lurks an extraordinarily tender soul. I'm still your friend because I've always had this selfish desire to be near people better than myself. And I've always believed us to be tortured kindred spirits, so to speak.

So, to answer your question, "Is there anything that you could do that would make me hate you?" I would have to say there is not. If you beat me with a stick, I probably would never talk to you again, and I might hire some goons to egg your house, but it would not undue our shared history -- a foundation upon which all friendships are based.

I hear the despair in your email and it makes me terribly sad. I know what I've written won't make what you're going through all better, but I hope you will take some small comfort in my expression of what you mean to me. Life gives us very few kindred spirits.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Always Reply

I will always be the girl in the thrift store outfit, and not because it is trendy. The girl who lives in a house filled with saw dust and power tools, and home brewed moonshine with no furniture. I will always be the punk rock Jersey girl at City Gardens getting a ride home from you. You will always be the guy in the jackets that have drawings on the back. The guy that has lots of pockets with mysteries inside, like shoestrings and marbles, and small plastic toys from the store Party City. You will always be the red head wearing a hat, or a cap, or a beret. The guy that lives in a brick house in a place called white city, with a slightly crooked front porch, and a mattress with no sheets on the floor of your dusty bedroom. I will always be the girl drawing on that mattress with an ink pen. You will always be the one drawing a picture of me in some notebook, when I forget who I am, you remind me. I will always be the red head or black head or green head or pink head or the dirty half- blonde and it will always be short and messy. I will always be the girl in fish net stockings and black boots and plaid mini skirts, or black velvet dresses with opaque red tights and mary jane shoes, or one dollar Chinese shoes wearing black leather bondage bracelets for jewelry. You will always be the guy that still listens to Black Flag. You will always be the man in the mud making mud pies. I will always be the girl waiting for you to grab onto the string of my red balloon that flies in the sky. You will always be there when some bird crashes into my balloon and I land in your mud hole in tears; I can play in the mud too. You will always be the guy pushing me back to the clouds every time. I will always be the girl at the wall not old enough for anything. You will always be the guy wondering about that. I will always be the girl who wants to give you a good luck charm for safety. You will always be the guy feeding me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I will always be vulnerable, somewhere inside. I will always be the girl buying the homeless guy some food.

You will always be the one that knows me, and that is years of this that has no name. You will always be a rock star.

 

[butters]

absolutely beautiful

 

[butters]

not sure if they quite fit but hope they'll do

great griefs are silent

sweet idleness, black care
my love i commit to the air
experimental balloon on a wordless journey

 

[butters]

watching for boats

i stand on this island
looking out to sea
watching for boats

and if my gaze
could draw you back to me
there'd be footprints in the sand by now

but the sea's not giving up its secrets
and skies change and change again

shifting sands beneath my feet
vibrate to strange rhythms
a beat too rapid surges -
fails

 

[sweepthefloor]

watching for boats

i stand on this island
looking out to sea
watching for boats

and if my gaze
could draw you back to me
there'd be footprints in the sand by now

but the sea's not giving up its secrets
and skies change and change again

shifting sands beneath my feet
vibrate to strange rhythms
a beat too rapid surges -
fails

Yes, of course it all fits! Thank you. I like it a lot.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Short love

He writes:

"If I call you Calgon, will you take me away?"

 

[CharleyH]

a sperm of an idea

 

[nerk]

watching for boats

i stand on this island
looking out to sea
watching for boats

and if my gaze
could draw you back to me
there'd be footprints in the sand by now

but the sea's not giving up its secrets
and skies change and change again

shifting sands beneath my feet
vibrate to strange rhythms
a beat too rapid surges -
fails

This is truly lovely ...

 

[CharleyH]

This is truly lovely ...

Indeed.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Thank you CH for sharing your letter. I have more love letters coming soon.

 

[CharleyH]

Thank you CH for sharing your letter. I have more love letters coming soon.

Post away babe. We are hear reading. I am going to delete mine because I want to use the beautiful beginning for a travel article. Nevertheless, Chippy? I still have goosebumps.

 

[butters]

a sperm of an idea

i got to read this before you whisked it away but hadn't got to replying
it was so full of imagery, you revealed it to me like a slide show ... took me on that journey. a lovely tribute to someone !

Yes, of course it all fits! Thank you. I like it a lot.

thanks. i guess it does read sort of like a love letter in a bottle
(even though i never, ever wanted him back - it was the sort of thoughts that would have gone into a letter, never to be sent, to the man he never was)

This is truly lovely ...

thankyou, nerk. i'm really glad you enjoyed it.

Indeed.

ty Charley x

Post away babe. We are hear reading. I am going to delete mine because I want to use the beautiful beginning for a travel article. Nevertheless, Chippy? I still have goosebumps.

really? i'm well pleased but i never goosed you. honest

 

[greenmountaineer]

watching for boats

i stand on this island
looking out to sea
watching for boats

and if my gaze
could draw you back to me
there'd be footprints in the sand by now

but the sea's not giving up its secrets
and skies change and change again

shifting sands beneath my feet
vibrate to strange rhythms
a beat too rapid surges -
fails

I just saw this; very lovely, dreamlike.

 

[butters]

thankyou so much

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I just saw this; very lovely, dreamlike.

I agree it's lovely hope you do some more here

 

[UnderYourSpell]

By now you will have realised
you are my sun, my moon,
lighting what was once
a dark and bitter road
I call you my rock,
my sanctuary
at last.
If I ever lost you
I would shatter,
as nothing else could
break me.
I weathered it all
and although still shaking,
was gathered in your love.

 

[CharleyH]

i got to read this before you whisked it away but hadn't got to replying
it was so full of imagery, you revealed it to me like a slide show ... took me on that journey. a lovely tribute to someone !


thanks. i guess it does read sort of like a love letter in a bottle
(even though i never, ever wanted him back - it was the sort of thoughts that would have gone into a letter, never to be sent, to the man he never was)


thankyou, nerk. i'm really glad you enjoyed it.


ty Charley x

really? i'm well pleased but i never goosed you. honest

Perhaps never goosed (and thank God for that), but you certainly have given my clit a nudge or two.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

shocked!

 

[CharleyH]

shocked!

Are you, really? lol

 

[UnderYourSpell]

....... and a tad tittilated

 

[CharleyH]

....... and a tad tittilated

who wouldn't be?

 

[UnderYourSpell]

who wouldn't be?

I think Chip has fainted!

 

[butters]

I think Chip has fainted!

nah, not me. i'm made of sterner stuff.

if anything i've written nudges Charley's clit i'll take that as high praise - though i'll be beggared if i know what was responsible.