Monday, October 22, 2012

The Story Behind “My Last Love Letter”

Picture courtesy of me.
Last Monday, I made your eyes bleed with bad poetry. (Probably.) Today, I’m prepared to satisfy your curiosity as to its origin. But don’t blame me if the triteness of it all either puts you to sleep or makes you hurl. OK, I suppose I’m to blame for the story, but you’re to blame for reading it, after being warned. We clear on this? Good.

A few years ago, I had a thing for a guy. (There's always a guy.) We met online and interacted only in that way. We shared many similar tastes in music, which was a major turn-on for me, and I crushed on him pretty badly. Naturally, all the difficulties of digging someone long-distance only whet my appetite, addicting me to every chat room meet-up, and turning on my inner Emo of Longing for Love. You know how it is. I’m sure you remember from when you indulged your own romantic angst, back when you were, like, a teenager, and whatnot. Most likely, you eschewed that sorta nonsense a looooong time ago. Me, I like to stick with what I know.

Anyway.

My RL (“real life”) friends who knew about this situation encouraged me to declare myself. I resisted, for quite some time. But after nearly a year of wondering (does he/does he not dig me as well?), I reconsidered. Part of me thought that if he felt anything romantic for me, he’d have clearly told me so. The response to that argument, invariably, was that the fella must be shy. Frankly, I think that’s bullshit—in my experience, no matter a dude’s general reticence, he will pursue a person of interest.

BUT ANYWAY.

I figured, maybe my friends were right and at least, either way, I’d know how he felt about things. Right?

So I made him a mix-CD. (Yeah, I know.) Every tune on it was carefully selected to convey my feelings for him. (Yeah, I know.) I think I made a CD liner for it that had a big red heart, with flames surrounding it. (For the love of God, already, I KNOW; quit rolling your eyes at me, sheesh!). And in case that wasn’t obvious enough, I wrote him that poem.

(I’ll wait while you go hurl into the receptacle nearest you.)

(Feel better now?)

(No? Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn ya.)

In the midst of packing for/unpacking from my recent move, I found the notebook in which I’d written the damned thing!!! You’d think it would have the decency to stay hidden, but no.

You may be wondering what the guy in question made of the poem. So am I. He never said. I went as far as e-mailing to ask for some response, any response. I even told him I’d understand if he didn’t see me that way, I just needed an answer. I got bupkis. Which is ironic, really, as the whole point of “putting myself out there” was to obtain some sort of resolution, wasn’t it? But I’ve lived without “closure,” (or him) ever since.

Some folks thought I should be proud of myself for taking such a big risk and making myself vulnerable. Big-frigging-whoop. I’ve got courage coming out my wazoo (divorced single mom here, folks); so what? I knew that about myself, already, I didn’t need to suffer (another) heartbreak to prove it.

What did I take away from this experience?

1. I should always, always, always trust my initial instincts. About everything.
2. Though they definitely mean well, the people who really care about you don’t always know what's best for you.
3. If I ever welcome another into my heart, he has to be at least as brave as I am.

I’m not counting too much on number three, though. Not that I’m bitter, or anything. Ahem.

So there you have it, peeps—the story behind “My Last Love Letter.” Will it really be my last? Time will tell…

13 comments:

  1. I am still mortified by a love letter I wrote to a guy when I was 18 and I am 32; mostly because that was during a time when I would constantly mix up the spellings for separately and desperately and I'm pretty sure I told him I was desparately in love with him. Shuddering just thinking about it.

    Your numbers 1 and 2 should be crocheted on pillows.

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  2. You mean he never contacted you again after you sent him the CD and poem? Wow I am so so sorry. :( These online relationships can be such a slippery slope.

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  3. OK, I missed the poem, so I had to go back and read it. Seriously, any guy who can't say anything at all needs to grow a pair. And yeah, I agree that you should always listen to your own instincts first. Good advice.

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  4. Oh, Mina, that just sucks. But I think most of us have gone through something like this and can relate. The not knowing is sometimes the worst. At least you found out what kind of guy he really was. And I so agree with you on number 3. Hugs.

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  5. well I think it was a bit crappy not to respond to the poem which was powerful I seem to recall. Yees the old compilation CD thing - did that once but received no feedback. Maybe putting the Birdy Song and Agadoo on it was a mistake!

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  6. I adore you. And the three things you took from the experience? Spot on, especially the first one. In fact, I refer to "my gut feelings" a lot and get made fun of for it, but it's never let me down. I've let myself down by not listening to said gut!

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  7. As someone who won his wife over with a poem, it's hard for me to knock it, but I wouldn't ever recommend anyone try it. Way too stressful. And wow, was it cheesy! --Rob

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  8. The thing I learned about on line dating is that the men who only wanted to chat on line and text VS. talk on the phone and meet up were not what they appeared to be. Maybe that was the same with your chat room man?

    Courage is one thing I have a lot of as well... my online dating "perfect pic" led me in a complete circle right back to a man I had already dated, loved, and ended things with... and then, a year ago, married.

    I have found what you really need is luck, and a whole lot of faith.

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  9. Oh I hear you, my sister. I cringed as I read because I remember a similar tale of woe for moi. Luck and a whole lot of faith sound about right.

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  10. Hello, Mina! Nice to have stumbled upon your blog! I am a budding romantigoth myself and am looking for friends/info that are into the scene. I am eighteen years old and write poetry too! Yayyyy. Love the posts. It's always nice to remember that I am not the only sap in the world. Sappiness is true love! I hope to learn a lot from you as an wiser, more mature goth. I am still in that awkward baby bat phase, but I'll make it through! <3

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  11. Thanks for the sympathy and sharing your stories with us all, folks. I appreciate both, and knowing I'm not alone helps take the edge off the bitterness (a little). :-)

    @Henri B - I've got a friend who does cross-stitch, maybe I can convince her to make a sampler.

    @JoJo - You are correct, ma'am. I think he waited for me to turn up in our usual online meetup places, but I was damned if I'd do that without some (private!) response to what I'd sent him.

    @Laurita - agreed! :-)

    @Elise - Yeah, the "not knowing" was kind of a killer. But you're right; I did at least learn who he was (or wasn't).

    @David - I've no idea what those songs are! Links, please!

    @Jackie - Aw, thanks! And ditto!

    @Rob - It's a wildly romantic thing to do, for sure. :-)

    @Juli - I think you're right - one type of activity was fine, as it kept me at a distance. And yeah; it's luck and faith.

    @Melissa - LOL, we've probably all been there, haven't we? ;-)

    @StepsTheGoth - you cracked me up, Baby Bat! As for being a "wiser, more mature Goth," well...I'm worried I may disappoint, on both counts. On the other hand, I tend to dispense excellent advice which I seldom follow myself. ;-) Looking forward to see you around the blogosphere, Gothling!

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  12. I feel bad laughing at this but that is a great story.

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