May 24th, 2009

Dearest Anna Lisa Kristina,

I can’t do this anymore. I’m lying. This is bullshit. This is death.

Air hurts every time I think about wedding rings. Breathing becomes a killer. Poisonous. You’re happy family picture. Me, taking the shot.

This is a sickness. This love thing. This best friend thing.

I sat there with you, dinner, at that restaurant in Downtown LA, across the street from the Japanese Village Plaza, the one I’ve frequented so much that my drinks wait for me before I sit down. I brought you to share with you a corner of my life you’ve never seen. And I’ll admit, it was to tempt you. To open yourself to a world where I am favored. Where I am treated well, and as a result, those around me are treated equally.

The owners, both, walked up to me and gave me a high five. The redheaded waitress brought a round of appetizers immediately. And we took our first sip of drinks that waited at the booth. How much that did for my reputation in your eyes, I have no idea, but you leaned in closer.

Status animals are we, I’m sure of it, thus making my strategy to bring you to my place the correct one. The hunt was on before I could resist because first blood dropped. We are these types of animals. Our unconscious nature. We didn’t even know it.

You played with your hair. You licked your lips. you opened you palms. You laughed at my jokes. I angled my body. I smiled. I listened. We told stories. Cemented memories. Pheremones flew. And as the night went on, our hands found partners to play with.

Then, I noticed your wedding ring.

And that cloud of thick, flirting, tension, dissipated. That restaurant became really cold. I looked in your eyes and they did not belong to you.

Your eyes are happy faced moonlight. They are crescent sunlight. Happily trapped twinkles. The eyes I saw that night were of an animal you never were. Hungry for attention. Desperate for excitment. Unhappy and searching for something.

If only I were younger…

And if it were not you…

We left and you looked hurt. That was good. you didn’t realize it, but that was a good thing. The animals were surfacing. The adults we claimed to be were drowning.

It’s been a couple of days. And this hurts a lot. I’m dying inside. This Just Friends thing is a sickness.

Because what I should have done was gently wrench you from the back of the neck, kiss the fuck out of you so perfectly hard it would’ve dissolved that wedding ring. So appropriately intense, my genetic code would go back in time and replace your husbands genes during the moment of conception for all three of your kids. And then we would’ve gone to our house and slow danced. Forever.

But I didn’t. because of this Just Friends sickness. I’m dying because I can’t do anything except sit here and try to contain loving you.

And I can’t do that anymore.

I know. Not this again. Last time I moved to San Francisco with, Shelby, tried my hand at normal life in a different city without you in my life. And looked what happened. Three years, went by and I end up with debt, Shelby becomes a lawyer, and you get an family.

This time is different. There are more permanent things in place. It’s easier to walk away form this today. Never see another tomorrow with you again.

At least i’ll see you in my dreams.

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