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Interesting Findings And World Unfolding Through My Eyes.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Love Letter

Dear *****,

A few days before I traveled to see you, I saw a little boy throwing his body at different objects on the sidewalk. First the side of a building… then a light pole… then a car. When I came close to him, I put my hand on his shoulder, and asked him what he was doing.

He showed me his hat, which said “invincible” and bore the Super Mario Brothers orange invincibility star. He told me that whenever he wore that hat, he could bang into whatever he wanted to without getting hurt. “It’s so cool,” he said.

Half an hour later, I saw the same hat hanging outside a store on the Venice boardwalk. I tried it on, it fit me, and I bought it. Not because I wanted to bang into walls (I stopped doing that years ago) or because I thought that it was a pretty hat. But because I imagined that there might be a time when I’d need it.


I was wearing that hat while you and I walked in the mountains on Saturday. As we walked, I pulled the brim low because I didn’t want you to see that my heart was behaving like that of a love-struck fifteen-year old boy. And I hoped that the hat would hide it, and make me invincible again.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work as advertised. I turned it backward and forward, thinking maybe different directions would get the star to work it’s magic. I turned it to the side. I took it off and put it back on again. Nothing. I tried other things. I walked with soldier-like discipline. I thought, perhaps, that such discipline would banish the butterflies. Still nothing.

And then, finally, later, as we watched a movie about a little girl and her dog — but really about faith and friendship and life — I smiled. And I laughed. And I thought about sweetness and sorrow.


Being with you this past week was almost all sweetness. Because I’d met my match. The girl I imagined when I closed my eyes as a child. Strong. Dynamic. Faithful. Searching. Accepting of differences. And of similarities. And of craziness. Crazy. So crazy. And smart. And fun. And unimpressed by ego or fortune or hot air. Simple. Complex. Passionate. Honest. Bright. Brightening lives. Many lives. Happy. Good. So good. So fun.

Sweetness, but also sorrow. Van Gogh’s sunflowers are beautiful because he painted them the way he did. If he painted them with a different hue or brush stroke, they might still be beautiful, but they wouldn’t be the same beautiful. And despite all my banter about life and faith and completeness, I could do everything that I was meant to do in this world, and I don’t think I’d be fulfilled without a girl like you in my life. And the only girl I know like you is, well, you!

And there are mountains and people and time between us.


Posted by Ajay :: 9:38 AM :: 0 comments

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