Ding! You have Mail!

      I like to write letters. They make the worlds I want to say that iota more tangible that they need to be to be marked as important. And while I’m not sure what I want to say, I know that it’s important. You’re important. Our relationship is important.

     I was told I was normal today. By my psychologist. She told me the swings in my head were the everyday ups and downs of normal people. I’m not sure what to do with this information. It’s been a long time since someone told me I was normal and much longer since I’ve felt normal. There always seems to be constructs that I create where it’s me against the world. It used to be a mask. Then the mask cracked and I had to really look at myself. Then I was diagnosed as bipolar and I suddenly had a new construct. The Ups and the Downs. Two combatting forces of which I switched sides. I’m not always certain that on which axis I’m on, but I always feel like I’m rising or falling. And now I’m normal.

    If I’m normal, then I should be doing normal things. I should be feeling normal things. I should be normal things. But I don’t think I would recognize normal if it reach out, grabbed me by the throat, and throttled me. Normal is something other people do, something that I can see but not comprehend. I just finished A Scanner Darkly and it’s all about how we fall out of normal and keep on falling until we no longer remember what normal is or what it felt like or even in what direction from us it might be found. That’s the way I feel. Fallen. Outside of the line, shut outside of the door, and labeled “Can Not Enter”. I don’t know, I certainly don’t feel normal.

    I don’t know if I ever told you this. When I was in Intensive Outpatient Program, one of the parts of treatment was to put together a list of people. I assume that the list was simply a call list for times of intense suicidal ideation, but to me it became something so much more. These were the people with whom I felt I could be completely honest. In fact, these were the people with whom I felt obligated to be honest. Closer than friends or lovers, these were the pillars on which I decided I could rebuild my life. Of course the two women who called my parents to tell them what I had done were my first two pillars. Of course one of my oldest friends and ex-lover was another. And to me, of course my last two pillars were Brendan and you.

    I know what I want from you. I want you to be one of my oldest friends. I want you to be in one of the rocking chairs next to me. I want to be able to tell you things that I can’t tell anyone else and not have to worry that it will destroy you or me or us. I want to meet for coffee in our 90s and laugh because we really haven’t changed in all that time. I want to be something beyond friends. I want you to be one of my pillars.  

   I’m not sure how we’ll do this, but that is what I want. And I’m willing to work for it. What do you want?




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