4.21.07

i told my mother today over the phone that i'd read some love letters sent by my grandpa to my grandma when he (my grandfather) was in the war in the 1940's. she sounded as though she was smiling, over the phone, and asked me what they'd said. all i could tell her was that they'd bummed me out, because they echoed the kinds of things i was feeling, and they seemed to legitimize my feelings. here was a man who loved my grandmother the most out of everyone he met during his life. he knew it when he was not much older than i am now. so it makes me feel that, perhaps, what i am feeling is not a fluke. this doesn't necessarily help.

i once told jesse that trying to stop loving someone is like trying to destroy something beautiful that you've created. love, though, is something created with the aid of someone else, even if that just means their presence. because of this, it is something that is difficult to destroy. it's as if love is created by two individuals, each of them tying endless knots with endless pieces of string. you can untie the knots that you made, but you can't untie theirs, because you don't know the kinds of knots they used and you can't find the ends to the strings. or maybe you just don't want to.

they say that if you love someone, you should set them free. and observation tells me that if you don't love someone, you WILL set them free (in a less kind way, perhaps). where do i stand? i stand somewhere undefined, heartless, with only my own hands and my own mind with which to interact. when you never have someone, maybe you can't really lose them. does that mean that some of us choose never to be with those that we most fear losing? perhaps so. but loving someone and never being with them is, i think, a greater loss.