Dear Lover

Originally written 23 July 2005.

Dear Lover,

I went out for about an hour tonight. I figured that since it was my first Saturday night in Rochester, it was appropriate to get at least a brief taste of the night life. So I got out my driving directions and found Nasty D's. i don't know if you've ever been there. For all I know, you wre there tonight. Wouldn't that be funny?

I kind of liked this place. it wasn't as noisy as some clubs I've been in. And having separate and complete floors for dancing and social interractions made it less overwhelming, I think. I sat upstairs for a while, watchign people dance. It was fun and exhilerating. If tehre had been more people -- or at least if it didn't seem like everyone else knew each other -- I might even have joined in. I could definitely see myself going dancing with you.

I'm still not sure I could meet you by going there, though. At least not if you didn't take the initiative to strike up a conversation with me. That bothers me, though. I'm not sure I shold rely on you takign the initiative -- at a club or elsewhere. I just wish I could find a way to take it myself and still be more or less comfortable. Or at least feel natural doing it.

I gess I'm just afraid my shy, introverted nature will keep us apart, Lover. Oh, I have no problems talking to people, don't get me wrong. Once the ice gets broken, I am usually quite warm and friendly. i'd even go so far as to say I'm downright charming on many occasions. It's just a matter of getting the ball rolling.

Deep down, I think I know it'll be okay, Lover. But right now, I'm just afraid. There's so much I don't know and don't see right now, and that has me scared. i have so much to do and so many options -- and I have the sense that there are still options I don't know about -- I just worry about whetehr I will make the right choices.

I guess I just need to trust myself -- or just grit my teeth and make whatever choices I feel are rightand necessary despite my doubts and fears. Wish me luck, Lover.

Fondly yours,
-- Jarred.

Originally written 12 August 2005.

Dear Lover,

I got an incredible surprise in the mail yesterday. The Rush-Henrietta school district dropped fliers in everyone's mailboxes for "continuing education" courses. You're probably familiar with these kinds of courses. They're the short little courses (one to eight evening sessions total) on a bunch of different topics. The topics range from learning to play euchre to learning CPR, and just about everything in between. I got looking into it, and I see where they offer a couple of blogging courses and creative writing classes this fall. So I think I'm going to see about signing up. It'll give me the perfect opportunity to get out of the house and meet other people. Who knows, maybe I'll even meet you there. I'm not counting on that, though. After all, I don't want to hinge my whole life on meeting you.

If nothing else, these classes will give me an opportunity to meet other people in general. After all, I could use some friends in this new area. And what better way to do so than in a setting where we're all working on and discussing a common interest. This will give the chance to get a social life going. And whether these particular events lead me directly to you, it's something I need, so that I'm ready when I do meet you.

But to be honest, Lover, this has me very excited. After writing to you a couple weeks ago about my fears of how to put myself out there to meet people and even find you, it was incredible to find such a precious opportunity fall into my lap -- or my mailbox, if you want to get literal about it. It helps to remind me that if I open myself up and express my desires and needs while looking for ways to meet them, opportunities just rise up. I just have to be open to them. This just reaffirms my confidence that we will eventually find one another, Lover. And with any luck, we'll both have some wonderful times and life changing experiences along the way.

Excitedly yours,
-- Jarred.

Dear Lover,

I have to admit, I'm a bit disappointed today. Up until last night, I thought I had actually found you. I had met a guy a while back, and based on circumstances and conversations, I began to believe that he was you. Well, it turns out that I had royally misinterpreted things, and my hopes that my wait and search were almost over came crashing down. So now I find myself a little sadder today (don't worry though, as I'm sure I'll recover soon enough) as I return to a more uncertain wait.

But I'm writing you today to do more than cry on your shoulder. This unfortunate experience has also given me more insight as to the kind of person I hope you'll be. You see, the reason I thought Sean was you was because he made a few statements that were a bit open-ended. He meant that as off-handed comments. And at first, I took them as such. But as time went on -- and after he made a particular comment that was a bit hard not to misinterpret at least a little -- I started getting the distinct impression that he was trying to express a romantic interest in a somewhat subtle way, the kind often attempted by those of us who are somewhat shy. So based on these incorrect interpretations, I came to an equally uncorrect decision.

When we finally and truly meet, I hope that you are daring enough to express your possible interest more directly. I don't want to have to rely on subtle hints and undertones in comments that could be misinterpreted. After all, it would save a great deal of trouble. I also hope you'll be the kind of person who's more direct in communicating in the relationship -- both as it starts and as it moves into a mature commitment. After all, it's so much easier than having to try and second guess intended meanings and connotations.

Don't get me wrong, Lover. I'm not expecting you to take all of the risks in the realm of communications. After all, it wouldn't be fair to me to ask you to always stick your ass on the line and face potential disappointment. I'm willing to be just as direct. When we meet, I'm more than willing to be the first to express interest, as scary as that thought may be to me. All I ask is that before I put my ass on that line, I at least would like to know there's something of a chance. (For example, I don't want to spend a great deal of time working up the courage to ask you out, only to find out you're engaged at the critical moment.)

In the end, Lover, I guess it's about vulnerability as much as it's about visibility. The two are interrelated, after all. So I guess in the end, I hope you're the kind of person who realizes that too, and are willing to chance the vulnerability necessary to help make my job of finding you a little easier. After all, you're so wonderful, I want to find you so that I can spend and share my life with you.

Longingly yours,
Jarred.