tagLetters & TranscriptsA Lover's Lament

A Lover's Lament

bysweetnpetite©

Dear L.

I miss the way we were. I wish with all my heart that there was some way that we could go back to the days where your eyes beheld me as the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, when your heart felt lighter in my presents, when the thought of me kept you warm on a cold night.

I know that I am the one to blame for letting that light in your eyes die. I know that I messed up, that what I did was wrong, and I wish that there were something that I could do. I know what it’s like to be hurt the way that I hurt you. It hurt me to see the pain that I caused and not be able to do anything to make it better.

Now here we are, together again, but it doesn’t feel the same. I know you still care for me but I wonder if you are even in love with me a little bit. How do we get past the hurt? What can I do to make you forgive me, to let me into your heart again, to earn back your trust and once again feel the fullness of your love?

I look back on all that I took for granted, and I only wish that I had appreciated it, and I know that if I had that back, I would work to keep it. I wouldn’t push it away like I did then. I would bask in every moment of the radiance of your love. I want a chance to love you the right way, but I need you to let me in. The distance between us when I am in your arms tears at my heart. Yes, I have suffered for my sins, and I am asking that you forgive them.

I remember a time when we kissed and touched each other for the shear pleasure of it. How we loved to be next to each other- had to be next to each other. The way that we would lay across each others bodies, being both a pillow and a blanket for the other. We where all that we needed to feel safe and warm and happy.

Back then we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. On our way to here or there, we’d stop at your apartment for something and I’d come to your room, and we’d never make it to our destination. You called it your lair and we’d make jokes on the wordplay (lay ‘er) and the mysterious sexual power that you commanded there. It was as if, once I was inside it, it was hopeless to resist.

We’ve decided to stay together, I’m glad of that, but what I really want is the chance to do it right, to make it stronger and better than it ever was. I wasn’t the chance to prove that I’ve changed, that I can be trustworthy, honest, open and giving. I know I have a lot to do before I earn back that trust, but I’d like the chance to try. Love is what makes the difficult easy, and the impossible possible. I am asking for the impossible- to be forgiven. Only if you truly love me will you be able to give me this gift. And I pray that you do.

I long for the days when my touch affected you; made your heart race and your breathing quicken. When everything within you longed to pull me close. There was a fire in your eyes then, a hunger that I miss. Roses and candlelight may be fine for some, but romance is not what I desire, it is passion that I yearn for, passion that I feel I must have in my life, in your eyes. Time, hurt, and betrayal have erased that passion, but my desire for it is strong. I would do anything to feel desire burning through you as you take me in your arms.

I look at you now, the father of my child, with new eyes. I have a new appreciation for the wonderful things about you that once I took for granted, and the beauty of a face that reflects both the man I love and the child that you’ve given me. No longer can I take you for granted, you are too important to me, too precious on every level; the father of my child, the man I love; the one whose heart I once held in my hands. If only I had treated it right then, I know that I would hold it still.

The words of a song keep floating through my head, “If ever you’re in my arms again, this time I’ll love you much better. If ever you’re in my arms again, this time I’ll hold you forever. This time will never end.” Even though you are in my arms, I know that you don’t trust me with your heart. If ever I had the chance again, I would indeed do it so much better. But I just don’t know if that chance will ever come. Will there ever be anything more than a reluctant reconciliation? I long for so much more. I need so much more. Maybe I have no right to need it, but I do.

Mournfully yours,

A.

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