22-10-10
Dear Andrea,
I am sorry. I remember writing, the first time that I do not apologise. That I do to my girls, but they are the exception, not the rule. I have lived my life by these rules for so long, that it is...more than difficult to accept that, perhaps, some call for revision.
You are right in that my lack of words have usually spoken louder than any I have actually verbalised. But you are also right - and I know you have enough perception to realise how difficult this is to admit - in that I did - do - feel nervous and scared.
Because...God, Andrea, because you have somehow wormed your way under my skin, into my thoughts and I find myself wanting to let you in, like I have not done with anyone before.
The moment that I saw you at dinner and you smiled, my smile became natural, not the forced one that I have always had to resort to, and when we sat, I had a moment where my life; the here, the now, the past, and the future, all flashed before my eyes and I realised that...I am not good enough for you. You are a nice person, Andrea, so...naturally beautiful. Yes, I want to smile with you, laugh with you, generally spend time with you, but I became plagued by these visions. I have never been good enough. Not personally. What if...what if I let you in, and you don't like what you see? What if I open up, and you do laugh at me?
I know I became what you think was...irrational. But to me, it is not about rational, or irrational, but reality. It has happened before. And I can't let...it hurts my girls. When people leave. And it would hurt me, to lose you.
I have all of these conflicting feelings that I don't know what to do with. I have always been the one to cause these feelings, not be the reciprocant. I have lived my life in this way for so long that I dont know if I can accept change myself without ending up hurting you, or pushing you away and I don't think I could live with myself should that happen.
You haven't misread anything, Andrea; but this...us...I don't even know myself how to just...be...especially with you, because I do accept now that you don't want anything from me except me, which is something of a novelty. It scares me, truly, because I cannot give you anything except myself, and that has never been enough. You amaze me, Andrea.
And I think I could have fallen in love with you.