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Letter to Tainted Love

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RkPy4yq7EJo

Dear, Womyn at Irving Park wearing Bert’s Bees,

Over a year ago one of the greatest times of my life came to a close. But closure hasn’t delivered until a year and 8 months later (now).  I had the time of my life riding around Lakeview with someone I adored, listening to sexy beast (a neo soul mix), making the seasons romantic. She left softly; spoke little words—gave me a song actually—and left me without understanding. So I listened. It all makes sense now; “I had to set you free, away from me, to see clearly, the way that love can be, when you are not with me.”

An ex-girlfriend of mine could not love me, because it wasn’t an honest expression of her romantic energy. I guess her back was always up against heterosexual conformity; confronting all the rumors of her liking womyn, I dismissed the possibility as experimental. They didn’t have any weight because all that matter was the status quo, she was with me. Indeed, I gave her the equivalent of my energy in an entire soul, and complimented it with an “I love you.” The honesty of her response, I imagine, was always killing her, but she proceeded: “I love you too.” That was some time ago, she freed herself; Most of my pain, though, lasted a long time due to clues and not resolution.

She’s truly in love now with her new girlfriend. I see our history (my ex and I) as part her total and personal movement toward living in truth; I just wish that I could’ve been the one she could be herself around; for romance’s sake, I loved her.  When we let our nakedness erupt from the practicality of being uniform, love mediates peace, and only there does love become real. Love for 2011 and beyond requires breathable conditions. If we can’t recognize the possibilities—those of being lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans-gender—and allow them to drive hearts into euphoria then love will always be tainted.

I haven’t spoken to my ex yet, and that’s because I couldn’t figure out where my sadness was coming from. It’s bigger than closure. My imprisonment of her heart overclouded by the fulfillment of mine upset me. We should’ve both been singing pretty wings. You say that you had to let me go because you knew it wasn’t working, but I had to let you go so that you could honestly say “I love you.” I understand now.

Sincerely,

Man that left a MF Doom cd in your changer