041111

Thief.

I must say, I have never found myself to be in such an obsessive state of mind. Not for someone, not for you, but for the inability to control my own destiny. Distance had yet to carry the impact those around us warned of, cautioned us against, and today distance forgave nothing between us. This man, David, he is a metaphor for cruelty, for weakness, my love for you is undelivered and forgotten as his hand momentarily replaces mine. This recently finished phone conversation yielded more than I can believe in, Thief, and I regret that my anger is driving my pen, insinuating a hostility I do not sincerely believe in. All the same, this letter will need to be continued at a later time, my goodbye is still impressing itself on my heart and hand. Anger is, perhaps, a useless emotion no matter the time or place, though I wish there was more you could have convinced me of over the phone.

With two hours to my favor, I am waiting to return your call until later this evening. I have elected to finish this letter before attempting to reach you, in order to deliver my impatience to paper rather than your attempts to rationalize your actions. I am sitting outside my barracks room, on a corner flight of third-story steps leading around to the building's opposite side. There is just enough light to write by, and the holiday weekend has allowed for empty commons in this building and those adjoining. I am thankful for the solitude, though it only aggravates the understanding I cannot confront you, I cannot ask him to step aside, I cannot fulfill the enabling void between us. Thief, can you not stop yourself? Can you not imagine the chances we will be allowed to take, should patience and confidence define our love?

It is not worth the effort to distinguish the differences between us, Thief, unlike the telephone discussion we shared earlier on this day. While I would like to made a point, an argument, what good would it do, here, arriving in your hands in three days time? Perhaps there is no point to be made, because the sound of your voice reveals my own shortfalls, my own ruins...I looked to you, Thief, for love long before you took notice, I cornered your heart without permission or hesitance. I have not yet given you the opportunity to respond in kind, and I worry this is your choice, that you do not share my desire for more of what we could offer each other. This man, David, he restrains me, and I will not stand for it, you may dream of him but he will not touch you while I watch on.

I do wish there is more for us to say, I do write this letter with affection and sincerity. Please accept it in kind.

-Tony