Author's Chapter Notes:
This is the result of just letting my brain write anything and everything it wants to.
Jim,
All this time without you is leaving me with a lot of time to just sit and think about you. Before, I was constantly with you and I thought about you but only really in the context of being with you at that moment. Now it’s sort of different, thinking about you. You aren’t here for me to immediately react to. You aren’t here triggering these thoughts. I have to imagine you, conjure you up and it has me thinking different things I never really thought before about you. Weird stuff, stalker stuff. Like how I love you so much I want to know every single microscopic thing about you. I want to know how the helix of your DNA curves or what imperfections mark your bones. Isn’t that completely weird? But it’s just something I thought today while I was sitting around without you.
Sometimes the sun reminds me of your skin. That warm, orange sort of sun that somehow looks and feels smooth. It sort of envelopes me and makes me feel safe and contained and content. I don’t know. Some days I just wait until the sun is setting and then I sit and watch it and think about your arms.
Being away from you makes me want to tell you things. Things I maybe normally wouldn’t have the nerve to tell you or maybe just wouldn’t think to tell you. Like how I love you so much that I just like to think about you doing normal things, like sneezing or flossing or absently scratching your chest while you look in the refrigerator. Just really basic but private sorts of things. These things are romantic to me, make me swoon even. My heart sort of surges upward and then my chest goes all tingly just thinking about you changing the light bulb in the upstairs hallway.
I’m in love with you forever. Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever.
I don’t like to watch other couples because I don’t think they love each other the way we do and it makes me a little sad for them. I wish everyone could know this kind of love, could know what it feels like to really truly meet the love of your life one day and have them love you back with an intensity that is overwhelming. In a way, I wish everyone could know what it’s like to love you and be loved by you. But I also don’t want that at all because I only want you to love me. But maybe if everyone could feel this sort of love, just the energy of it, so positive and pure, then maybe for just that one instant the entire world could be happy.
Is any of this making any sense? I’m not sure. It’s late and I miss you but I also like to think of you far away like you are. I like that you’re waiting for me somewhere. That I have this home now. That I can come back to you. I like that there is longing and yearning and all those love song clichés. I like thinking about you alone in the house, sitting by yourself on the couch watching TV. I like that you’re probably thinking about me right now. Admit it, you are. I like that I can write you letters like this. I want to box up my entire heart and mail it off to you.
Has it really only been five days since the last time I saw you? And will it really be another ten before I get to do that again?
I want to make you blush while you’re sitting there at the kitchen table so I’ll tell you a secret: Earlier tonight when we were talking on the phone, my hands started to wander a little. I didn’t tell you because it seemed more exciting to just let you talk about your day while I had my way with myself. I wonder if you could tell. If my breathing gave it away. Did you notice how it caught in my throat? And afterward, I was embarrassed that I’d done it and hadn’t told you I was doing it so that’s why I rushed off the phone. There was no RA emergency, I’ll admit. But then after I hung up, I let my hands do it again because your voice was still all around me and do you understand the things your voice can do?
I miss the shape of you.
I know I’ve always said that this, the art thing, is my dream, but can I tell you another secret? I think my dream has really always just been you.
It’s so late that birds are waking up and the sky is turning all purple like a bruise. Remember that first night we spent together? We didn’t sleep at all and by the time morning came, we were sitting cross legged in bed just looking at each other. We’d talked so much already that night that our throats were dry and a little sore and so we decided to let them rest. And the sun hit our faces for the first time that day and you reached out and touched my chin with your fingertips and I started to cry and we laid down and kissed each other for a long time before falling asleep for the entire day.
Of course you remember that. I don’t really need to tell you about it. I just like to remember it. And I want to tell you that every morning still feels like that morning to me.
Even this one.
Yours,
Pam
unfold is the author of 102 other stories.
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