Letters letters letters

Dear friend,

I would say to you. That I understand how you feel. Sitting next to her on that white couch where I once did. That couch was the first piece of furniture to bare my weight as I sat amongst a crowded group of friends in her presence. I drank wine from that couch. I laughed, loved, and saw a winter snowstorm pass from the arms of that couch. I watched candles burn over the city and ate her terrible home cooked food from that couch. I sang her songs, and drew her pictures from that couch. I watched as she hung them from the refrigerator door. She told me she loved me on that couch. Looked in my eyes and said she would never leave me from. that. couch.

The problem you see, it was not in me. It wasn't in the cushion or the chair or the seat. Unknowingly, I gave heart's heart away from that couch. When all the while, it was your seat that I was sitting in. Many others had sat before me on that couch. I thought it irrelevant and that she'd finally found the perfect occupant for that couch. But now I see. I see I do. It wasn't for me...and it won't be for you. So love your sleeves off. Love her all evening. Make sure she knows that you do. Then quietly pack your things. Re-string your guitar. Leave her with her lyrics....and leave that couch. Just like you found it. white and perfect. In the midst of the only woman who could put such an item to shame. Leave. that. couch.

Hide your heart in a box and walk down the stairs. Out the glass windows and into the streets of the town. Look to her window and know that she's gone. Pick up, pick up, and move on from that couch. Listen to your favorite tunes, most likely ones she lent you. And walk away changed. Walk away wondering. Walk away with the glass of your heart half full. And make the best you can of every day away from that couch. It won't do any good to wish for it back, it wont' do good to send her any more silly letters. She's above the postal system, after all. Just love yourself. And miss her lots. I guess in the end, she got what she wants. You.

-Best of Luck,

Friend