Dear Rebecca,
First off, I’m not being critical my love. I love you as is! It is just that, well, you always seem to be in flux, eluding my mental net of insight into you, which sometimes frustrates me to no end. And so I’ve been wondering, is this a premeditated effort on your end, for the fun or adventure of keeping me guessing? This seems to be a popular pastime among younger women nowadays. Or, is this changeability the product of your young, restless mind, always channel surfing or role playing one possibility after another, never settling down for long? I think it is mostly the latter.
Whatever the case may be, I wish for some solidity in this unstable world, maybe just a bit of it, especially from my girl. This is probably not realistic though. For example, by the time I determine the reasons for your latest mood swing, you will have changed so much that nothing makes sense anymore to my decrepit mind, and you will swing into the next mood while I’m still pondering your previous mood, making me feel like the class idiot again, when everyone got the joke quickly, except for me; my former conclusions becoming null and void and going back to square one, while being laughed at. Oh, I so despise the memory of those days!
Yeah I know, my paranoia is coming to the surface again, or maybe I’m self-denigrating, poking fun at my inability to comprehend and thus keep the best parts of you for myself. What better way to accomplish this than returning to the scenes of past humiliations, readying myself for what is yet to come, the mother of all humiliations: losing you! Or have I begun a slow descent into the world of emotional masochism, the early signature of dementia? This is not so uncommon for old folks like me, when we sense the continued loss of things, such as masculine virility, memories, and our most cherished women.
A man’s most humiliating experience is the sudden inability to comprehend his woman and her transformations; to be struck down with a mental impotence or fatigue that leaves him dazed and confused, and her wandering the minefields of “other” men: the young, good looking ones with acute mental awareness and boundless libido, who lie in wait for such opportunities; men with an inner strength and presence of mind to receive and embrace the subtlety and complexities of her dynamic, evolving essence, until alas, seduced by their dynamic intellects and virility, she opens the door for one special man to dive deep with his raging hormones, thus capturing the totality of her mind, body, and soul. The rest of us being reduced to hound dogs on the hunt; diminished souls chasing the women who were once ours, but pushed aside by the inevitable fate of declining minds and the young, virile men who exploit such deficits. I know this sounds cruel and maybe overly dramatic, but nevertheless it is the fate awaiting old men – for some of us anyway.
And so here I am my love, trying to grasp what is left of you for me. For a tired old man such as myself, this is like chasing an automobile that continuously changes lanes, speeds up, slows down, and weaves in and out of traffic. It is with the utmost difficulty that I keep up with you. Everything within and around you perpetually shifts and reinvents itself like a kaleidoscope or streaming neon sign, confusing the hell out of me. Yet, here I am, continuing the pursuit. Your pathetic, “lovestruck” stalker zigzagging along with you, albeit partly driven by my own crazed daydreams as well, which I better keep to myself, lest you replace me with someone more sane or grounded in reality.
By the time you read this, I will have clicked “send” several times, and you will find 3 or 4 expanded versions of this letter within your inbox, each one fumbling around for the right words to describe something that resists my explanation – the sign of a feeble mind I suppose. Anyway, I love you, which is why I’ve written this letter and the others, despite the chaos and sadness within me.
Forever yours,
Isaac
Hey Mr. Stalker:
You are rambling again! Being overly dramatic and not making much sense at times. I don’t know how to respond to some of this, other than to tell you to STOP THINKING SO MUCH! Just live your life babe!
What about my latest mood swing…which one? You are comparing me to an automobile? You are such a romantic, sweeping me off my feet with your bizarre metaphors! The Mona Lisa would have been a better metaphor, maybe even getting you some of the good stuff you’ve been wanting from me, if you know what I mean…ha ha ha. I’m such a tease!
What is with all the abstract verbiage in your letters and literary like drama? How about talking like the rest of us simple folk? You are insane and deeply paranoid, do you realize that? Your meds don’t work and the wiring in your head is fucked up! Seriously Isaac, you need a better shrink.
Chelsea, my bud, told me you are “batshit” crazy. Remember her? Of course you do…her pic somehow ended up in your photo cloud, accidentally of course. How does something like that happen, sir? Explain it to me, will ya? Does her blonde hair make a pleasing juxtaposition with my dark hair? Just wondering, since her photo was sitting next to one of mine in a folder named “Fancies,” with nothing else in there. Another accident of course! Hmm, what were you thinking about when these accidents occurred?
I’m going out again tonight, maybe for a week or two. Don’t look for me or ask what I’ve been doing, okay? Your interrogation last weekend made me bonkers and you got no answers anyway. You are on the “NEED TO KNOW ONLY” plan, and you don’t need to know my shit all the time. This means that I will NOT tell you everything! If I feel you don’t need to know something, then you will NOT know it, got it?
Anyway, I will sneak up on you when I return, maybe bring you a treat…not me though, not wanting that with you right now, maybe never again. We will see. Ask me again in a year or get it elsewhere. You don’t need to tell me what you are doing and with whom. I will know though, so DON’T YOU DARE fuck around behind my back, unless it is with someone old and ugly! You will be sorry, I mean it! I’m worth waiting for, even if you never have me again. I know…I’m a meanie sometimes. Sorry babe! I need to keep my emotional assets safe though, you being one of them. Possession is nine-tenths of the law! Did you know that? ha ha ha
Hey, delete her photo before I go bonkers again! She is too pretty for you to look at. I’ve not taken my meds in a week, so be careful…very very careful! At least hide the damn thing or encrypt it somewhere, before I search thru your cloud again, and I will! This is for your own protection. I’m trying to keep you safe from me. I’m not being funny here. I don’t want to hurt your tender soul my sweetie pie. Keep your man fun and skeletons hidden in your secret closet…know what I mean? We all have a special closet, and mine is full of shit you wouldn’t believe.
By the way, I texted you my latest selfie. I’m wearing the jeans you like so much. My hair is down too…did that for you. What do you think? Have fun with it! Oh yeah, I included my latest work of art, replacing Mona Lisa’s eyes and cleavage with my own. Added my Christian cross to it too, making it more spiritual. Kind of funny, but she looks much better this way. Do you think I’m becoming a narcissist? Don’t answer that!
Now please, stay away from me for a while, so I can do MY OWN THING, which I’m never telling you about. It is nothing bad, not according to me, but you wouldn’t like it…a good reason for not telling you! You will get better if you stop exploring my crazy stuff…maybe sleep better anyway.
Ohhh, one more thing, pleeeease get out of that dusty room for some fresh air, so you don’t become more crazy! You sit in there way too long! What the hell are you doing in there? Trying to delete Chelsea’s pic, maybe? ha ha ha
I really don’t want to know what you do, but yet I do. Oh God, I’m beginning to sound like you! You are rubbing off on me…NOT A GOOD THING YOU SWEET THING! Hey, it rhymes. I’m a poet too!
Okay, see you soon or much later than that, after I do my PRIVATE thing. Thanks for the romantic letter. You are so weird!
I love you too!
Notes from David 