Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Dear Love:

I am a poet and an artist.

You are my obsession and my quest in life.

It is my heroin. My addiction.

I adore every nuance, every emotion that wells up because of you.  I adore the inspiration it provides and the time I take out of other parts of my life to pursue you artistically or otherwise.

You are most important.

Love is God.

Your servant forever,

My dearest love, 

I wish I could say that I use that term loosely, but I can't imagine that I am.  I think I am forever changed because of you and I have no one else who will be what you are to me.  I am learning that I must accept that I will never be anything more than ...  that one girl, to you. 

I'm sorry.  I really am.  And I'm not apologizing to you. It's just a sad situation.  I don't know how to be what you want, I guess.  I don't think I should have to change to be anything, I would hope that you would just like me.  That is why you contacted me again, isn't it?  You contacted me because you were thinking about me. You missed me.  But then you don't treat me like someone you've missed terribly for over a year.  I don't understand.  I wish you could just tell me instead of being cryptic or lacking communication with me at all.  

The truth is, I can't stop thinking about you.  You always cross my mind.  There's always something there to remind me, and I'm not trying to quote that song, but it's true.  A song lyric, court because of that damn speeding ticket, being with someone else...  All it does is remind me that I'm not with you.  I've always been silly and sentimental with the idea of love and when in love.  I'm not saying I've not been in love before, but for the past few years it's been you.  The fact that it's felt so unrequited might be part of the fact it lingers.  I've never been able to fully explore the opportunity to be with you.  

And I am fairly certain that I'll always do anything for you.  Not that you'll ever ask again, but if you perchance, maybe in another year or two, decided that you missed me, and you asked me to do the same thing that we always end up doing, I would still do it. Love is madness.  And insanity is apparently doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results.  So there it is.  My loyalty, tenacity, and constant pursuit of you has merely led me to this empty place I now sit. Maybe it is pathetic because you really just don't seem to care and I keep doing the same damn thing.  


I am the wave, you are a wall.  I am the storm, you are the calm.  If I could I would be exactly what you need. And I suppose another part of my madness is that I think that I am, and continue to believe you are afraid of something.  And somewhere in my confused and loving heart I absolutely believe that you will realize, someday, how much you need me.   When I am with you, I am calm.  The constant turning over of my mind, the constant worrying, that buzz that never ceases in my normal everyday life...  it's gone merely with your presence.  No. nay... not just with your presence, with that look that you give me.  That subtlety you use to show me that you do feel it, unless you're just incredibly good at lying.   And maybe that's just it.  Maybe your eyes show your lies and not the truth, or maybe I'm just projecting...  I've already told you I know we work differently.  I am lavish in love, doting extravagantly on those whom I choose to love; while you are subtle and sweet.  

I've seen it.  And I want to know the depth of that look, and when I've asked you to tell me, you always say, "another day..." and that day never comes.  

And now, as I sit here, wondering what to do... to let it go, or to actually write you again, and apologize for being too much for you, and asking you again to forgive me.  If you reply, you will tell me again to prove how much I love you.  And I will meet you again, probably in the same place or similar, and things will happen just the same as before, and I'll never get beyond that.  

Maybe that's ok.  Maybe that's just what it is, and where it will stay.  Maybe I should be okay with that.  

Or maybe, maybe after your next deployment, or next career move, or next time you are alone in a park, you will think of me, and want me there.  And maybe, just maybe in those moments you will realize how desperately you desire my company and companionship, and how you desire me to be the one you lean on, to heal you in the ways you've found only I can.  

I'm allowed to love you regardless if this is all just the silly dreaming of a silly lady in love.  

So I will.  Whether you are with me at all, in any way at all... or if I'm nothing to you, I will continue.  I found something in you, something important to me.  And I'm not sure I'm able to let it go.  So I write this letter, in the hopes, not that you'll read it necessarily, but that you'll understand on your own and you'll come back to me again.  Just like before, only better. 

I love you, J.  

You aren't the first, you won't be the last, I assume with the current circumstances, but yes, yes...   I'd do anything for you.  All you have to do is ask.

Peace n' love, always and forever,

Heidi Rose 

Friday, December 21, 2012

Dearest friends,

You know who you are because I've told you I love you.  And you're probably still "around" in one way or another.

I make a lot of rash decisions, I'm impulsive, and I do many things that you, and others, probably think are bad ideas.

I wish that you could walk that line of risk with me instead of playing it safe.

Do what you will.  Not what is expected of you.

Love always,


Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Just a kid....

Dear J

I.  Loved.  You.

You're a fool.

Age has nothing to do with it.

My children have nothing to do with it.

Your loss.

In The Moment

Dear D,

Maybe we call it serendipity?
May we let it be romantic?
May we relish the energy exchange?
                                  May we pretend we've never done this before?

I want to tap the potential found.   (Let me.)
I want to dream.
                                 I want to wake up in your arms again.

Various people have told me that in these sorts of encounters I cannot expect to be treated well or with respect.
                                                                                                      I wouldn't mind proving them wrong.
Treat me well.  I will do the same for you.

I don't want to be "just friends" nor "friends with benefits," nor anything labeled or conventional.

I do seek a companion.
Companionship.  Affinity
It doesn't have to be infinite.

My children have a father.  So do I.
                                           If I want sex, I can get it- apparently.  Got me?

I don't have any intention of changing how you've chosen to live.
But might I have the chance to influence how well it is lived?
Might you decide to spend time, precious time, with me?

Confide in me.  Hide in me.  (heh.)

Momento mori.
Carpe diem!

I try not to waste any moment.
                                                I am a spaz.
                                                I talk too much.

But you won't regret taking the chance on me.

                                                                   Peace n' love.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Dear Don,

Was it childhood innocence? Was it malice? Merely insensitivity?
Or was it nothing? My whole life it has been, "it was my fault."
Maybe my whole life, every relationship, has now been shaped by that one act.

And I wonder how you are, where you are, and what you are doing.
Do you know how I have felt? Does it matter?

I have no idea how to get closure for this.

I can't even sign this letter.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Dear Melissa S,

I have always found it difficult to make, and more importantly, keep the friends that I make. I have many fair-weather friends and people I know and are friendly with, but it has been quite a long time since I've made a friend that made me feel like I could talk for hours, telling everything and anything to in confidence, and still be friends the next day. I know that it takes, it seems, major planning, just to get together outside of work because of husbands and children, but know that if I could be as spontaneous as I used to be we would probably be hanging out about everyday doing everything and nothing at all. We seem to get along famously, and have much in common - but different enough to keep things interesting. If we were lesbians we would be life long partners for certain. I wish I knew you long before this but so glad to know you now. And I hope that in the long run, despite all circumstances that arise, that we remain friends. It feels as though, not that you would do anything, but even if you pissed me off beyond madness I would be able to forgive you.

Peace and love always,


Thursday, October 1, 2009

Dear Joe,

We work together. That is our relationship. You will not speak to me like you did today ever again. That will not be tolerated, and if you ever speak to me like that again there will be actions taken via the appropriate work channels. I am hoping that my desk will be moved, or yours will be moved. I think you need to sit among men. I am not a child, most definitely not one of your children, and will not be spoken to as though I am. I am a human being, equal to you, if not better than, and you will not treat me as though I were not. I have had my share of abuse, have dealt with enough abusive people, and have to everyday just through our job, that I will not take it from a co-worker who has no greater authority than I and no reason to treat me badly.

I look forward to your cooperation in this matter.

Thank you,


Sunday, September 27, 2009

Poetry break...

Even if I break the mirror
It doesn't change my face
Or what I see behind my eyes
No fire escape

Treading water among the sharks
Eating me alive
And I know it's in my head
But still I'm drowning
Can't keep myself afloat
Can't believe in what I see
Because you can't see the memories
Can't hear the voice I hear
Always reminding me
Never free

The jungle path to safety
I avoid it
The barren dusty road I walk
I can see for miles-
No shoes will ever feel better
Can't be anything but me
And it's all that I can do
To try to be enough for you.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Dear Sherry,

I know that it is difficult to decide between the one you love and chose to spend your life with and your blood family. You shouldn't have to. I really do not know exactly what happened to drive this wedge between our family and yours, but I wish that we could resolve it in a way that allows us all to see each other. I think Jeremy misses you, really. He tries to say he doesn't care, but I'm not sure that it's true. If it is my fault that this all happened, I apologize. I have no problem with you, really, and do not mind Diane. I accepted both of you as you are and I would hope you would do the same for us. It is sad that this happened. I hope that in the future we can see each other again. We do only live a few blocks from each other, and I even work with you, though you sit on a different floor in the building. Jeremy has made it clear that I should not try to contact you because he thinks it is up to you to come to us. The last time you came over you did say that you would make an attempt to see us, and we haven't seen you for months now. Maybe this will turn around on its own somehow. I hope so.

With love,