Message to Michael

Dearest Michael,

I have been feeling the need to talk to you all day. The past few days, especially today, I have felt that I am just biding my time, allowing the hours to pass without any real focus. I am back to where I don't see the point in doing much.

In all honesty I can't say that I have been unproductive, as I got both boys enrolled in school, and have them both ready for school to begin next week. I am looking forward for them to begin school, as they both could use the opportunity to begin making new friends here in our new community.

I too will be making a new start in a couple of weeks. I was offered, and accepted, a new job today. I'm feeling really good about this opportunity, as it gives me the complete break from the type of social work I used to do, and brings me back full circle to what I was doing prior to moving to San Francisco 25 years ago. I will be working for the Regional Center Program, providing services for the developmentally delayed. It feels good coming back to this type of work with now so many years of added experience. The agency is very excited about my joining them, and have a plan in place for how they can best utilize my skills. I won't be making anywhere near the amount of money I used to, but I am hoping that the new work environment will help to continue creating a lifestyle where I feel calmer, and at peace.

Arianne is doing very well in her program. I feel like she is making the needed adjustments to not living at home, and is becoming more and more open to the new experiences that living in a community of women can bring to her. I think you would be very pleased with the progress she is making. In fact, I know you would be very proud of her. As I write this I can picture the way you would be looking at her, and telling her how proud you are. It brings me to tears thinking about this.

Michael, I miss you so much. My body is hurting right now, needing some part of you to hold onto. Tonight at yoga I arrived a bit late, and didn't have the time to greet anyone, or to look around the room at the guys that were present. Once we were all moving in sync I realized that there were many new faces in the group. I was trying to stay focused on myself, and focus on my breathing. As I moved into the various poses I began to sense that the person to my left was having some kind of effect on me. At one point we were instructed to turn our gaze to our left, and I immediately understood why I was feeling pulled toward this person. He didn't look anything like you, but he had your build and skin color. As he moved, I could see your movements. When he flexed I could see your muscles stretching and relaxing. I tried to distance myself from this observation, but I was weak, and kept finding my gaze returning to him.

This made me ache for you all the more. I'm finding that as time goes forward I am able to intellectualize what has happened to us. I understand death, and know that it touches all of us at some point. In a way understand that you had to die. We knew that it was coming for two years. We talked about it, and we prepared for it. During those years we loved each other madly. We held each other close every night. We made love as often as we could, and when your health took that away from us, we made sure that each touch was purposeful. I loved the touch of your skin, and how all the little hairs would stand up when my hand grazed across you. I loved your furry chest, and smoothness of your shaved head. I loved your scent, even when you put on far too much cologne. I loved the devilish look in your eyes, and the desire that spoke through them.

Michael, I know this is leading me to a dark place. I know that giving in to these thoughts, and acknowledging my own desires will only bring me pain. I know that I cannot seem to stop myself from wanting you. It goes beyond logic, and enters into the memories that are imprinted on my skin. Nothing really gives me pleasure any more. I desire to be touched, but know that it is the touch of your hands that I need. What do I do? Where do I turn?

I often worry that these needs will eventually cause me to either implode or explode. Do I close myself off from the world, and learn to not need, or desire, anyone else? Do I go off searching for someone else to fill that need? I sometimes worry that my depth of pain and desire will lead me to such extremes. Do I isolate myself, or do I become completely promiscuous? I know that most will say I don't have to go in one way or the other, but life has felt so extreme these past few years, so why change that now?

I wonder where you are, and what you are doing. I wonder if there is a place, or if there is a state of being for you. I wonder if you see me, or even still have a connection to me and this world. I know that I will never know, and will likely come to a point of just defining that which brings me the most peace of mind. It's crazy how we that are left behind are each inventing our own sense of afterlife. We each are out here trying to define what will work for us, creating our own individual reality.

I feel like I could keep writing to you, talking to you, way into the night. After all, isn't that what I do every night anyway? I sit, I stare, I wait. I can call it whatever suits me at each moment, but I know that it is always you. I sit with you. I stare into what used to be our reality, and I wait for a sign that the wind is changing.

Could I have one moment back? Could I have one visit? It could be as simple as feeling your breath against my face. It could be as quiet as hearing the air move in and out of your lungs. It could be as gentle as your heartbeat resounding with mine. Am I asking for too much? Probably.

I shouldn't be asking you for these things. If you are hearing my requests then I am only causing you distress. I don't mean to do this. I don't want you hurting because you cannot deliver upon my requests. I'm sorry.

Michael you gave me plenty in the short time that we had. Perhaps I should stop referring to our time as short, as that seems to minimze all that we had, and all that you gave me. I know that I was fortunate. I was blessed. Don't worry about me. I'll adjust. You were a wonderful husband, and a beautiful lover. Remember how you used to look at me and say, "I'm a lucky man." Well, Michael, the truth is, I was the lucky man.

I am yours.

Dan