Dodging (ip)

I don’t know. I just feel like I need to start everything I say off by saying that really, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, or what to say, or what I want, or anything. But I am trying.

About the dodging.

I don’t think you mean to, but I do think that you hear only the questions you want to. I think you see only the parts you want to. It’s understandable, but maddening. There are some things, some times, when I have only to look sideways and you know what I am thinking. Yet in this, a gently worded question, encouragement, or thought isn’t always enough–you seem to ask me to press harder than I wish.

At least, I like to imagine that’s what’s happening. Because the alternative is that you hear me, and my questions, and you choose to ignore and dodge them. That would hurt more.

Some things you should probably know–

I love to listen to you. Your voice is a quiet reminder of your presence, and I enjoy listening. It doesn’t matter what you talk about, it makes me feel better to hear you.

I like knowing about you. I know your past doesn’t define you, but it is part of you. I like knowing where you came from, literally and in terms of experiences. If you were to just start talking about your life before you came to Clanthia, about things you’ve done, places you’ve been, things that have happened and mattered to you–I’d be happy to just listen, just to hear you and to know about you.

I couldn’t really explain why either of those things is–but they are true. Whenever you reveal some little thing about yourself, I almost can’t help but smile a little because I’m so…I don’t know the right word…because it’s so pleasing that you’ve shared with me. It may be irrational and silly–but it’s true.

I try not to just bubble over with questions. It would be rude, and heartless of me to do so–though if I let myself, it would be because of what I said, because I want to know about you, and I hope if I ask the right question you’ll talk for longer and I can listen a little longer.

When, or if, you ever want to, I would be quite honored to listen to you, if you’d tell me about your past.

Some other things you should know–

I love you. I think you do know that, but do you know what it means? Fully?

I always want to be with you. To have some moment of contact, brush against you, or better have you choose to touch me. I want, as I said some years ago now, to sleep beside you, to wake next to you, and feel you near me. You make me smile, you are a safe place.

I trust you. Everything you say and do, I would not question it, not because of any code of duty and honor–but because I trust you with my heart, and I think you would not tell me false. Yet at the same time, if I felt something was wrong, I would not hesitate to make certain all was well–because I care for you and do not want you to get hurt by not being able to be yourself.

I wouldn’t ever mean to hurt you. I think I do hurt you sometimes, and I hate myself in that moment. I do everything I can to be both worthy of the kind of trust I put in you, but also to never hurt you. I don’t ever want to be the cause of seeing hurt in your eyes.

Something else you should know–

I don’t remember not loving you in some way. I won’t deny that at first I looked at you with what can only be described as hero worship, but then you started to talk to me, and I started to love you. You were, and are, as I said the other day–not perfect as in without fault, but perfect for me because of your faults. I couldn’t describe it with words, not really and not effectively. But some time ago, you were gone for several months, in the frostlands I think–this was well before I had said anything about loving you. When you returned, I ran forward to hug you, just glad to see you back. You wondered if there was some great decision that had occurred–never thinking that I was just seeking an excuse to be near you, and being glad in your presence. Over time, I’ve grown to know you better, and so love you better.

I understand, some, that you can’t open yourself fully. And now that you’ve told me something, at least, of why–I can accept it. But I do hope that I can prove you wrong. I don’t know how you were so hurt–not in detail, but I do hope that someday you’ll realize that I can’t hurt you in that way–though I’m sure I’ll hurt you sometimes, I will always want to make it better, at least some. But, I’m in no rush there–we both have time enough. So I will just love you, with all that I have, and hope that you can accept that kind of love eventually.

Some other things, less thoughtful in a way.

I do love you. And that is not just something emotional or mental, to me. This is the most difficult thing for me to talk about, because this is a subject that seem to upset people the most.

*deep breath*

Listening to you, being near you, touching you, knowing you are there–are all good and wonderful things to me. But at times…I want more than that.

I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or unhappy, or make you feel pressured or pressed. Know that. But I do feel that I should tell you, honestly, what I’m thinking.

Physical closeness is important, to me. It’s…how to put it…I am very open, very honest with people, and there is little about myself that is known only to those I love. This is something I choose to share only with those I love–in a way, and act of trusting you completely with myself, if you see.

It is…words are hard here. I’m sorry, I don’t know how to say what I should say. I’m going to have to hope you can understand from my fumbling.

Things are starting to improve. A little bit at a time, I begin to think I could hope for a future. Even if I am broken, in my heart, in my mind, and in my body.

Things have changed lately.

I made a mistake, some years ago, and I am in a strange place because of it. But it is not your problem. I had hoped you would understand, when I told you that you had the entirety of me–not some part. But if you did, you did not acknowledge it. And that is the only way I know to explain. You have all of me. Not because I am a possession, to be traded and passed around, but because I choose to trust you. As I said–you have my heart at least, and in a way more of my being, I ask only that you are careful with it.

I hope that somehow this helps make things clearer. Because I am trying something new. I am trying not to dance around things with words, and instead to simply tell you. I hope I am doing the right thing, because I don’t know what to do, but I would do almost anything if you asked it of me.