You will never believe what I got in the post yesterday. Go on, guess. You'll never guess. OK, I'll tell you: a love letter. A fucking love letter. Ah, but from whom? I hear you ask. I'll tell you this much: I didn't need to look at the signature to know who sent it. All I needed to see was the stationery on which it was written. Black paper. Black paper written on with silver ink. What sort of man sends a love letter on black paper?! The sort of man who goes to Egypt on holiday and brings his girlfriend back a stone sculpture of a pre-dynastic fertility god complete with giant erect phallus, that's who. A man with style. A man with penache'. A man who went from happily getting all he could manage and then some to lonely bastard in the space of half a pint.
It was really moving. I really had no idea he felt that way. He's not one to express his emotions in words, but I think at this point he figured he had nothing left to lose. For the sake of fairness, because I previously published a list of all the things he did that bugged me, I'll let you read a bit of the letter, to leave you with a more balanced and favorable impression of his character.
...I dreamed of serenading you with my guitar under your balcony last night, except you don't have a balcony. If I could actually play the guitar I could play through the intercom system, but I guess that would distort the sound and you wouldn't understand me. (laughing hysterically)
I could send you a love poem but I guess you'd recognize my plagarism and laugh.
The fact is I feel compelled to write to you with all my heart... (getting choked up)
...there are many things I love and admire about you even though I never took the opportunity to tell you. When we're out walking I love it when you seem to just disappear when i turn around I discover you have stopped to smell a lily about 50 metres back along the path. The confidence in your voice and the sound of you speaking puts me at ease... (cue the weeping)
...CB, I love the way a little sigh escapes your mouth when you seem peased or contented. I love the smell of your hair (that's not just a line, he really did smell my hair a lot)... I love the way your skin feels when I touch your arms, shoulders, and back. I like the way your bum wobbles when you go out jogging and I love it that you don't seem to care. Most of all I love it when I wake up and find you lying there beside me...
There was more to it than that. Some bits too personal to publish here, some too mundane, questions he would like answered, etc., but anyway. I had to respond; couldn't just let that one lie. I sent him a response, 3 pages typed, single spaced. Too many times in my life I've heard the phrase "I love you, but..." This has led me to conclude that "but" is the most wretched word in the English language. I never thought I'd hear myself say it. Today I hate myself.
Was out with the Pirate last night. Saw "Cars." Cute flick, but I have some issues with it. Maybe I'll do more with that later.
Right now, I promised you food for eating. I have had several requests lately for recipes for light, summer fare. First Nations is in the process of re-learning how to cook, the Great She Elephant is looking to slim down a wee notch, and I'm sure I remember HC asking me for some salad recipes. So for the next few weeks I'll be posting a recipe ever couple days or so. These are all light, easy, and really super yummy. If you try them and have any suggestions as to how they can be improved, by all means leave your thoughts in the comments. Bon appetite!
Mediterranean Salad
Ripe baby plum or cherry tomatoes
Feta cheese
Greek olives (optional)
Fresh basil
Olive oil
Balsamic vinegar
Salt/pepper
Slice the tomatoes into quarters. Coarsely chop the basil. Mix the tomatoes, basil, and olives in a bowl. Drizzle with oil, vinegar (be spare with the vinegar. seriously, less is more). Season to taste. Crumble the feta cheese. (Always add the feta last or the balsamic vinegar makes it go a wonky, unnattractive colour.) Serve immediately, room temp.
Because this salad is so simple, the key here is good ingredients. The basil MUST be fresh. Dried basil has no flavor. You can buy a pot of fresh basil at Sainsbury's for a pound. No excuses. Use really ripe tomatoes, good olive oil, and a fairly sweet feta. (Most fetas are too salty for me. If you can't find a feta you like, give it a whirl with goat cheese or mozzarella.) Enjoy!
7 comments:
aww, that's so sad and a horrible lesson about the perils of not expressing your emotions
still silver ink on black paper from a grown man. hmm
So here's the lesson to learn: If you care about your partner deeply and you like x,y and z about them then tell them. Strong feelings for another are best expressed through sincere shows of affection, the odd *carefully chosen gift and the spoken word but above all they are best expressed when you are still together. If you never express your feelings you can't expect others to automatically know how you feel and take it into account.
*Don't buy roses if she doesn't like flowers. I saw this and thought of you bears more genuine meaning when its something specific to their personality or aesthetic.
Very true, B, very true indeed.
Actually, there's, er, something I want you to know, um...
Just kidding.
Thought you could use a *HUG* right about now. Just wanted to say that even though I'm sure this is really hard to receive, that it is likely for the best. Once your feelings for him changed that really was the bottom line. I don't think either party can be happy in a relationship where the feelings are all on one side. You handled this in a way that was sensitive to his feelings; you told him as soon as you were clear on your feelings rather than leaving him dangling and causing more hurt, and you've continued to be sensitive to his feelings by taking the time to answer his letter. I'd say that's classy all the way. In the end, it's about you being happy and acting in a manner that's true to the person you want to be- and I think you're there right now - :)
Completely agree with Ezri (and with GSE re the black paper silver pen thing) don't feel guilty or bad about yourself. You'd have done a far far worse thing to stay with someone once your feelings had changed.
Fell in love with that particular recipe when it was made for me in France (with mozarella - feta's too salty for me too) although they don't add the balsamic vinegar. If you make an hour or so before you eat it the flavours intensify and mix together. Gorgeous.
Sorry to be so brutal but ... a man who sends a love letter when you've finished with him? One that features lines from the "your teeth are like stars - they come out at night" school of writing?
No, you're well rid of him.
"All I needed to see was the stationery on which it was written. Black paper. Black paper written on with silver ink. What sort of man sends a love letter on black paper?! "
A gay one. Hand pressed and cut parchment from any decent stationers, a good fountain pen and black ink are all you need. The words are up to you.
"Saw "Cars." Cute flick, but I have some issues with it. Maybe I'll do more with that later."
There are no issues with Cars. Go and see it again. It's perfect storytelling. In a bun. It doesn't rely on cultural references that no-one will get in fifty years time for laughs and therefore will still be watched when we're all old and grey and on to our 19th blonde bimbo wife. (in my case anyway)
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