Dear Lynda –
It’s been awhile since I wrote my heart to you; I expect you were glad of the rest.
Do you remember all the discussions we had? I suppose some of them could have been called heated, but I would never call them arguments. No, we respected and loved each other too much for that.
I’d told you I didn’t like sex. I know now why I stayed relatively calm when you’d tell me Patton was a controlling ass. When you said he wasn’t the right one for me. I didn’t even sneer when you said that with the right person, making love is the most beautiful thing in the world and the closest two people can ever come to being one.
I think I remember shrugging, I think I remember saying I probably wasn’t wired right. And you said no, it wasn’t just me, it was Patton too. We weren’t meant to be, you said, and if I ever found the right man, I would sing a different tune.
I think I’ve found him, Lynda. But it still isn’t working. I think I love him, but I can’t … I just can’t give him that power over me. I can’t.
Because what if it’s like you said? What if it is? Where does that leave me? I’d be trapped again, this time by my heart and body, if not by legalities.
You lived your life as you wanted, free in your forests, painting your wildlife, loving your man. And you never stopped pushing me; to leave Patton, to move up with you and Jim, to live the life you were living. You forgot I wasn’t you and I never realized that I might have other choices.
Kate reminded me, Kate gave me another choice.
I’ve been thinking a lot, and what I think is that you have to love and respect yourself before you can be worthy of love from another. And I’ve only just begun that journey. I have a lot of baggage to get rid of and I need time; time to buff up my self image, time to build a healthy ego out of the doormat I’d become.
If I let Nick love me – and oh, I came so close – it would be the start of a relationship and you don’t make decisions by yourself when you’re in a relationship. I know it’s that way now with Kate, but we each have our own interests, we do our own thing, we’re just bound by a link of love and wanting the best for each other.
You say it should be that way with Nick, do you? You’re probably right.
Someday I might like myself. Someday I might believe that a man could love me. That the real me can become someone worth loving. I asked him what he saw in me and the woman he described is not the woman I am. But perhaps someday it might be the woman I become.
And oh Lynda – you won’t believe this, but … I’m horny!!
I hope you’re using all your influence for me, darlin’; as you see, I can use the help. I watch for you at night, Lynda Stella, you’re the star just to the left of Venus, somewhere to the north of Mars. You still sparkle, just as you did on Earth.