Beautiful

The one thing that my sister Kerry said, and I hesitate to bring my family into this: the word I said doesn’t define you any more than it does me. It might take me a long time to understand my act, for I know how much it must have hurt. But I said it not out of feeling, but out of an irrational feeling.

 

The word she was talking about was horrible. Kara, you were the most beautiful woman I had met in 20 years. You made my heart jump, you were so beautiful.  The night before I cursed that word, I showed my absolute, resolute, true honest feelings for you, in the best way you allowed me to. The next morning, we went to the diner and ate eggs and talked wonderfully and were fresh out of bed lovers. The next night I let my mouth slip in a disgusting way. But that doesn’t characterize me. I slipped because of a horrible misconception on my part. I thought you liked chat room whores more than most girls.  Chat room whores as in guys who prey on chat room girls. I was so wrong. Any girl who would look into my eyes and say what you said before we ordered Chinese, before we trapsed out to get the movies while you wore my warm coat did not deserve that. Who kissed me as we walked the plates for out Chinese food out from the kitchen? Who kissed me unconditionally on the couch and held my hand as we continued our acceleration into the bedroom? Who still deserves beds of roses every day? You do. We had such great meaning that night. And a gentle intimacy. The person you looked into the eye and said you liked so much not gone. He is what’s left over.

 

I expect no response. I deserve none. But I want you to know that I feel terrible and that I did like you like you more than I ever expressed. I’m sorry. You do deserve better.