Dear Love, A Letter
by Kathleen MacGregor
Dear Love,
We’ve changed. At least, I have and I can see how much you’ve grown from boyfriend to husband to father. Thank you for walking with me.
What I want to know is: What is your desire? Do you want to skim the surface of a lake, laughing over waves, behind a boat in summer? Do you want to try scuba diving and go deep? Explore places no light’s ever reached before and be innocent and new together? Do you want to get comfortable in the shade of an old tree in the middle of a cool green lawn with a glass of white wine in your hand, a New Yorker on your lap, and watch the croquet players? All of it? Something else?
I am restless for the deep sea adventure. And the sea is restless for me. I want to be known outside of whoever I think I am. To explore who we are at our cores, to finally be completely naked with you and discover Everything.
Will you come with me?
Always,
Me
3 Responses to “Dear Love, A Letter”
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the more of your writing I read the more I feel my own desire to write in a way that expresses as touchingly as your work does. Thank you, Kathleen. I know how hard it is to actually believe anyone’s positive feedback… and how I wish you could believe this… your writing comes off the page, feels alive, feels real, stands up and helps me attend to how I feel, gives me entry to your experience and then to mine, goes from the personal story level to the universal. I identify with the “I” in this piece. Am able to find her in me, my version of her. That’s what I believe all writer’s aim for.
Very moving.
There is no way I can deny your genuine expression of appreciation here. As uncomfortable as I feel, as un- believing as part of me may be, I realize how unloving it would be to do anything but receive it! I want to honor your experience and the loving communication here. I want to honor Desire. Here Deisre is fulfilled and Thank you Universe for letting me channel you in this way and for having it be moving to others. Thank you Pam for you encouragement, your depth of understanding and your reception. I don’t know that I would be writing if not for our friendship. If only there was a word that would would mean tears and smiles and trembling and sighing and twirling and sobbing and tenderness and bravery and the beating of my heart, I would write it here.. Oh, yeah, there is … love. I love you.