13:27// It is a very moody day on campus. I woke with wild swirling hair in my long white t-shirt, having dreamt of a suspended ceiling concealing a 30’ attic space. I woke at about 11:45 and managed to make the 12:30 performance of a few pieces by Debussy. A. can pull off a deeper voice than I would have ever imagined. Also, I love you.
14:14// I’m in the patterned gray sweater you photographed me in in the cabin last December. My hair is cute and just a bit raggedy, just as you liked it (though I did not plan it that way). I skim through the section on the design of Queen Elizabeth Hall, which I have already read. Looking out towards Lake Cayuga draped in a sombre and picturesque gray haze, considering the past and the future. The world begins again in January. A young law student whispers before another picture window, me catching some of the words of his speech: ‘democratic society’,’natural gas’. Someone scuffles across the low-pile carpet, as the door creaks closed behind him/her. I wonder what he’s thinking. I understand how difficult and confused the tempest made things. I am sorry, my one true love. I have changed. I love you, absolutely. Thank you for pushing me to become a better man.
18:27// Walking across the Arts Quad after the final Musicology Colloquium of the semester, I felt a bit hurt. For the rest of the walk against a swift breeze as the clock tower chimed and began playing music, then down the mountain, stopping to pick up a bottle of gin, I considered how mean-spirited/cruel it was for Sam to refuse me any sort of peaceful closure on our relationship (and to take things as far as he ultimately did to maintain that radio silence instead of saying goodbye as a friend, was truly inhumane and violent). I thought then, however, “But I did many mean-spirited things too.”
You knew how to upset me with your strategic silence. I knew how much my noise caused you to shut down. But perhaps you were never trying to be mean with the silence, perhaps I was different than the old lady on the plane. In my case, I believe much of my noise was never meant to harm you, I was just miserable in the city or stressed about the apartment and the dirty stove. When you refused to accept that, I did not know what else to do. When you said, “I think I should leave then,” I let you go, having foolishly held on to the fear of you abandoning me again for so long. I was exhausted. I did not see. I am sorry for all of my mistakes. I forgive you for yours. I truly have changed, but my love for you remains Sam, having only grown deeper, more complex, more patient, more understanding, with the passage of time. Whether we meet again or not, I will always love you. Thank you for helping me see what in me needed to change. I love you and you are the only m. for me. - s.p.
Oh, and I finished that Brit’s book “The Architecture of the Well-tempered Environment” in Uris before heading to Lincoln Hall, where I read a journal on foreign relations, on the topic of ‘soft power’ as it relates to both economic and hard power. A. crossed the room along the same trajectory as Samuel did last time. I like the way Debussy wrote the “y” of his name, began doodling in the margins.
I understand the circumstances we each were under. I am so excited and proud of you for approaching the end of your dissertation. Time shall never erase my true love for you, but this love has surely pushed me to change in positive ways. Too hard on myself, I became too hard on you. I never wanted to be a burden. Much of the nightmare of last spring had to do with my lack of sleep, the substance, and the fact that I never really allowed myself a true break between winter and spring — everything seemed a maddening rush. I am so much calmer and centered these days. So many little things that once annoyed me for no good reason, now hardly phase me. I am not sure I had experienced the full pain of loss until I lost you from my life. Whether you believe it or not, I really did just wish to peacefully exchange our things and part as friends. I love you m. I will always be on your side. I forgive your worst as I continue to seek forgiveness. I believe in your best. I miss having visions of you in our shared future. I love you. I will stand before “The False Mirror” at 12:00 on January 12, 2014. It is not too late. Keep writing. You’ve got this.