Letter One: The Moon and The Sun

When I think of this love we have created one evening will always shine brighter than everything else. I remember that night in the Square when I sang Death Cab to you. There's one line that I can't forget. "Love is watching someone die-so who's gonna watch you die?" This reminds me of you. This is why I don't think I can leave Russia. If I leave you are going to die. I don't know why, or how, or when I just know it is inevitable. Your death is not what scares me. You not existing would be strange more than anything. It would be like waking up every morning for the rest of my life only to find that the lights in my house won't turn on. I would bumble about in the darkness all day. I am not scared of forgetting you; you know that could never happen. I am scared of not being part of your last everything. Please try to understand. Why do you think I took so many pictures? I have to have something I can touch when you're not with me, I need some tangible part of you. I had to capture some small fraction of the person you are. I had to immortalize that dark smile because I knew you wouldn't let me stay here. I know you want a bigger life for me, you think it will be a better life in America. You don't understand this, how rare, this is. 


Of course, I could love someone else, that would be easy. I could reinvent myself; it is so easy to do in America (much is easier than it is here: a place where there are so many secrets hidden in so many places). I could have a family and buy a house in the town where I grew up but I don't want that. I never have. I only want two things out of this life I have been given. I want the knowledge that I have lived it extraordinarily and I want to live it extraordinarily with you. Sasha, there is only so much we can do with this. What I am trying to answer is-how do we make sure we don't run out of time? Forever is not within our reach so I suppose we must make do with a whispered "someday."


I have enclosed a picture of me and you must promise to carry it on your person. I don't ever want to feel like there was something more I could have done. Some part of you I missed. I have to know what it's like to be with you every second I can. Sasha, it feels so good to write your name, it feels so good to say it. Why is time so short but love so long? You're to much a part of the good things in this life to end. I wish I never met you because I know there is nothing else to feel in the world. You have taken every feeling that has been felt, even the ones that haven't, and rearranged them into something entirely different. You have made the world a result of your presence. I think this is what it means to be in love. I know you don't believe in God so I am not going to say we will meet again. I don't know this. But I do know, that if I am to be nothingness after my death, I would want to be nothingness wherever you are nothingness. We could make up the space between the end of the world and the beginning. We could fall off the edge together.

If we were the sun and the moon and this would be our inescapable fate: So it was written
That it must be like this always
The sun clinging to a piece of the
Moon clinging to a piece of the sun
Such a longing for some shared time
But never knowing what it feels like
To be held in each other; as one.

Until the ending of our story is determined, I'll see you soon although only through a telescope lens in a place you have never traveled. Until then, you are every dark pair of eyes, every tall sinewy body is yours, every head of black hair. Until then you are everything.

Inside It All Feels the Same

It's over.
But I wouldn't trade this feeling. I feel to alive. My eyes, they're acid. My throat is sore. My head throbs. But I wouldn't trade this feeling, being here like this, on this field. It's dark. We're all just looking, staring, unsure. Where do we go from here? We're crying and it's over. It's dark and our hands are shaking as we place them above our heads and against each others and I can feel the stillness. We're lost. It's dark and we're unsure. We're grasping for a foothold within each other. 


Why are you still here? 
Don't ask us to answer because we don't know. It's over and we won't ever be in this moment, together, again. The familiar dirt shifts beneath our feet. Faces cleansed by angry tears. We're here and it's harder than it should be, than we expected. We apologize to each other: I am sorry for my inability to make things last. Don't you understand I want us to stay here always?


Look, he says, you built this. Look, at this legacy we have built together. He says, remember remember. 


It's over and I can feel the vagueness, the uncertainty. It's dark and we're unsure, we are lost. The darkness swallows us up one by one. Poof. Gone. Remember, he whispers with his blue eyes on our faces. Poof. Seven gone. Seven remain. 


And you just stood there at the gate, like tell us where to go next. Your faces, you looked so defeated like all the life was gone. I wish you could have realized how special this was, how special you were together. Maybe then you would have fought harder. If you knew what you know now-how would you change it? You were so special. You could have done anything. Anything. 


And I am writing just to say that I am writing. I am writing so I don't forget what this feels like. I am writing because writing defies time. Here is what I have been trying to answer-how do we make sure we don't run out of time?


And what was it that that great man said?

We must accept finite disappointment but never lose infinite hope, or something along those lines. It really doesn't matter anymore anyways.  I know this much is true. 

The Dream of Living Forever

They dreamed everyday. 
The boy would say, "You start." 
and the girl would say, "Okay, we're in Boston and it's beautiful" because thats how she always started her dreams. 
Then the boy would say, "Our duplex overlooks the ocean and it always smells like incense and you've got a room for writing with big bay windows and I've got a studio and it's perfect."
"We stay up late on our rooftop and look at the stars and talk about the meaning of happiness. We go to Urban Outfitters and spend hours wandering. We philosophize." The girl would say.
"You're putting on your makeup because we're going to see one of our favorite indie bands tonight, Glass Houses, in some small pub. And we'll go dancing and be so alive and so careless."
"We're catching a train to Canada at midnight" she smiled, "to the cabin in the woods." 


Sometimes he would wake her up, "We're sailing on the bluest water, in a small wooden boat. It's night time. We talk about stars-are they made of fire or of something more beautiful?" 


She said "This reminds me of us." (You and I, we're not tied to the ground, not falling but rising like rolling around, eyes closed above the rooftops, eyes closed, we're gonna spin through the stars, our arms wide as the sky, we're gonna ride the blue all the way to the end of the world, to the end of the world).


The girl was lost so he told her, " I wish I could save you. Take you on a small plane, to the biggest mountain, with the cabin that we've dreamed up." 


"I wish that too. I wish for so many things." She was never afraid to be honest but only to be vulnerable. "Let's go far away. To Paris, to India, to Venice. Somewhere, anywhere. Let's escape together."


"You're free" the boy would tell her


They weren't sure what these dreams meant for them. Is love dreaming together or the absence of dreams?

The Sadness of Love Without Release

I love you the girl said.
And he kissed her now, LOUDER. 
I LOve you the girl said.
And he kissed her now, LOUDER.
I LOVE you the girl said.
And he kissed her now, LOUDER.
I LOVE YOU the girl said.
And he kissed her now, LOUDER.
I can't she whispered.
Well that's not good enough he said
and he kissed her one last time.
His lips left burns on her skin.
I knew that kiss meant something the girl said
to an empty room.

lets make a trade.

and my happiness is like a teeter-totter. some days i'm up, most days i'm down. i can't help but blame these unconsistent moods on you. i don't know if i'm in love with you, or who you used to be. i feel terrible almost all of the time. when i read the things she writes, about you, and the times you two spend together. my heart drops, my eyes water, and confusion takes over my mind. why do you have this affect on me? i used to be so strong, my who-cares attitude saved me. it was a shield against vulnerability's pointy spears. then you came along and i was forever changed. i don't know why god put you in my life if all you were going to do is break me. i was already broken by the time you came along, i didn't need to be shattered anymore. but you don't care, you say you do, but obviously people can lie. that's all you've been doing. lets make a trade, you give me my heart, time, virginity back and i'll give you all the memories of you. sounds fair right? yeah, matt, i thought so too.

- love always, jenn.