Monday, June 14, 2004
Letter to Tom
Dear Tom,
You said something that I want to clear up: I'm blowing the whole thing out of proportion. Apparently, you don't appreciate what I've given you so far. Let me explain.
I'm the sort of person who doesn't have a lot of friends because I choose who I love and take to heart. I'm sure at one point in your life, you kept a box or envelop where you kept things -- letters, fotos, cards, pretty shells from the beach -- that reminded you of something special that happened in your life. I have a box like that to keep mementos in. Only the most precious and the most beautiful go in that box.
I treat people I meet in this lifetime the same way. Only to the most precious and to the most beautiful do I open my heart. And when I let them in, I like to keep them in there, to look at in times of loneliness and desperation. You're in there, Tom, because I find you beautiful and precious to me.
I find you beautiful -- your intelligence, your wit, your joy in living and enthusiasm for meeting head-on the challenges that come your way, and your devotion to your children. I find beautiful the warmth in your eyes, your Richard Nixon nose, your kooky smile, your caressing voice, your active, sexy body. When I arrange to meet with you, I clear my schedule so that I can focus my time and attention on you. I want to give you that quality of attention that your wife never seemed to have given you, as she never seemed to have appreciated the kind of man that you are. Not that I pity you or feel sorry for you, but simply because I find you beautiful.
I understand that you are new at this swinging game. But like I said, you're not new to dealing with people and determining what these people are "bringing to the table." In my case, can't you see what I'm bringing into your life? Can't you distinguish reality from play? So you're new at this swinging game. You're like a 9-year-old boy let loose in a candy shop. Sure. I'd understand that if you were 9. But you're not. You're a grown man who I admire and respect, someone I look up to for answers and for strength, someone I can actually learn from. You're one of the very few.
There was a time that I'd have just turned my back on you and threw you out of my life. Your loss, not mine. But I don't want to do that anymore. That's the way of the weak -- not wanting to live and love, and nobody wins.
If we're to see each other in the future, I can only reiterate my expectations: the respect and common courtesies that we all expect and demand from everyone else. Apparently, you're not ready for the friendship that I offer, so we'll just leave it at that. We all have our own version of the truth, even me, and we'll leave it at that as well. You have your own reasons for playing the game, and I have mine.
So now that the parameters are clear and set, let the games begin.
Emyn
