The Record of My Heart (Words #3.5) (9 page)

Hi, sweetheart,

It’s late—I’ve just returned home from the first of three performances of
Much Ado About Nothing
at Hart House. Sitting in that theater with Julie beside me stirred up so many memories of February 13th, the night we sat together and watched
Hamlet
. Or at least some of
Hamlet
, because of course, then you threw up and I took you home and had to watch Matt swoop in like Prince Charming and take care of you, leaving me on the curb like a chump. God, such great memories! :)

I look forward to having you by my side again for the
Much Ado
performance. Between class, tutorial and the play, I’ll be able to spend almost five hours with you on Friday! I’m particularly interested to see your response to the tutorial content. I know the sonnets aren’t your forte, but once you get into reading them, I’m sure you’ll agree they’re lovely. This is one that I plan to share on Friday. It’s my favorite:

Sonnet 116

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”

I’ve always loved that sonnet, but reading it now, I obviously think of our relationship and the obstacles we’ve encountered in the two months we’ve known each other. We’ve already overcome so much, and I feel like we can face anything. (Not that I’m looking to have to endure much more!) So when I read that in tutorial, I’ll be legitimately covering course material, but I hope you’ll realize as well, that I’ll be reading it for you—
to
you.

I’m going to sign off now, as I have some mp3s to look through. I can’t tell you why. It’s a surprise. I’m certain it’s one you’ll like. Counting the hours until Friday, Aubrey.

Yours,

~Daniel

xoxoxo…

P.S. I just realized that when I flip open the calendar tonight, I’ll be putting a big red X through the first day of April! Good-bye, March, and don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out!

P.P.S. May 1st. One month today. Good God, make the time fly by!

Hi, my lovely,

The weekend has arrived. I’ve always looked forward to weekends, but not at the moment. Weekends separate us and that is not something I would ever wish for. Instead, I live for Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Yesterday was wonderful. I love watching your expression as Martin is lecturing. You get the most intense look on your face. Your kindness, wit, beauty and sexiness are all compelling as hell, Aubrey, but I really love your brain, too. You know that, right? I’d be hard-pressed to find someone more ideally suited for me than you are. (Shakespeare would call us
true minds
. I honestly believe that.)

As for tutorial, well, that was highly amusing. Watching you and Julie bashing knees under the table was very entertaining. You’re so transparent sometimes. But just so you know, if Neil was my BFF, I’d have been giggling and bashing knees with him as well…) I would have said Shawn instead of Neil, but I’d like to bash something other than Shawn’s knee, to be perfectly honest. Why does he remind me of a dog circling a T-bone steak when he looks at you? Don’t think I didn’t notice how excited he was to sit beside you at the show last night. It’s so incredibly annoying knowing you’re mine and yet not being able to announce it to the world.

I think the hardest part of this whole thing is that normally if I saw a guy salivating over you, I’d think, “Yeah, get an eyeful, buddy, but she’s coming home with me.” Somehow, thinking, “Go ahead, look if you must. She’ll be coming home with me…NEXT MONTH” doesn’t have the same ring to it.

Okay, I’m going to close here because I want to email you so that I can actually hear back from you. You see, that’s the weird thing about writing these letters. Although I thoroughly enjoy the process, the lack of response is disheartening. Every time I sign one, I’m tempted to send the whole bundle off to you, but I stop myself. Like my grandfather did, I have to wait for the perfect time. With several weeks left in the semester, now is definitely not the perfect time. (Cue: Me already starting to obsess about the perfect time to give you these letters. I’m such an ass.)

Affectionately,

(The ass who adores you)

~Daniel

xoxoxo…

Hello there, green-eyes,

It feels like forever since I’ve sat down to write a letter, when in reality, it’s only been four days. I suppose with time creeping by the way it is, every day seems endless. I would have written a word here and there throughout the week if I’d had time, but between classes and tutorials and the sonnet conferences I’ve been doing, I haven’t had many free moments. The few quiet minutes I have had I’ve been using in other “creative pursuits,” as you know, since you now have in your hands the CD and liner notes I painstakingly prepared for you.

I suppose I should thank you instead of cursing you for imposing the ban on gifts because it’s forced me to think of other ways to show you my feelings, and I never thought I’d derive so much enjoyment from making someone a CD. The expression “labor of love” comes to mind.

To be honest, the hardest part of making that CD was narrowing down the playlist to thirteen songs. I would have included one or two more, but I’m developing a bit of a fascination with the number thirteen. If the events of February thirteenth and March thirteenth weren’t enough, there’s your birth date to underscore the magnificence of the number. So yes, thirteen is my new favorite number. (If you haven’t already realized it, I have a tendency to be a smidge compulsive at times. Now, apparently, in addition to my laundry list of other foibles, I’ve become numerically obsessive. Awesome.)

Bottom line, I hope you like the CD as much as I enjoyed putting it together for you. I thought you would have listened to it by now, and I might have heard from you, but I suspect you might have fallen into bed as soon as you got home from your night class. You’ve had a taxing day, and just because I was the one conducting your sonnet conference, I’m sure that didn’t make the assessment any easier. In fact, it may well have been more stressful for you. I was fairly nervous myself, but I tried to stay calm and completely focused to help you.

Stupid as it sounds, I loved reading that exchange from
Romeo and Juliet
with you and listening to your analysis. You did a nice job working your way through the themes and motifs, and I’m happy to have helped shed light on another possible angle of interpretation. You looked a little shell-shocked when I came out to give you your notes. I hope you didn’t think you screwed up, because you did beautifully. I could have happily sat and chatted about the play with you for the rest of the evening. I’ve never had a romantic relationship with someone who shared my love of Renaissance literature before. I wish we had more time to indulge in long discussions about what we’ve read and enjoyed. One day…

Well, it’s late, and I have more conferences starting at nine in the morning so I’d best turn in. As always, I’m thinking of you, and my heart is heavy as I contemplate the week ahead. I’ll go to sleep tonight remembering the way you looked today as you read Juliet’s lines. Just so you know, YOU kiss by the book. And I’m not referring to rules, convention, and propriety. I’m referring to my Achilles’ heel, which I’m sad to report, is completely healed. I look forward to being completely crippled in a few weeks.

Good night, my sweetheart. I’ll write more soon.

~Daniel

I sit down to write this evening, Aubrey, not having crossed paths with you today and without any hope of seeing you until next Wednesday. The thought is depressing beyond measure. At a time when you’ll be alone, with no family to rally around you for Easter, I feel more than ever the need to be there for you—to support you and offer you solace and company, but heaven knows I could be in a room full of people, as I will be on Sunday, and still feel your absence acutely.

I’ve been so tempted to suggest that we find a time to get together during the next few days, somewhere safe and neutral, just to give us both something to look forward to over this very long weekend. I hope you think of me as much as I think of you because if you don’t, then I’ll feel even more foolish when I give you this collection of correspondence. Of course, there’s always the book of love letters to turn to when I need a reminder that I’m not alone in my pathetic devotion to the woman I adore. For instance, look at this passage by Henry VIII as he pined for Anne Boleyn…

“…absence gives enough, and more than I ever thought could be felt. This brings to my mind a fact in astronomy, which is, that the further the poles are from the sun, notwithstanding, the more scorching is the heat. Thus is it with our love; absence has placed distance between us.

Nevertheless fervor increases—at least on my part. I hope the same from you, assuring you that in my case the anguish of absence is so great that it would be intolerable were it not for the firm hope I have of your indissoluble affection towards me.”

Can you hear his agony? Were it not for the fact that Henry VIII was a violent and narcissistic asshat, I might actually sympathize with him. I can empathize with his plight, though. The absence of you in my days is painful. I know it’s not your fault that we can’t see each other, and I admire your strength, but that doesn’t make the prospect of being apart from you for the next five days any easier.

Now I
know
it’s a good thing I’m not sharing these letters with you. The last thing you need is me making you feel guilty for the decisions you’re making—decisions which are good and sound and based on promises made to my father. Your determination to remain faithful to that promise to my father is staggering. And frustrating. (Infuriating is another word that comes to mind…) I should be grateful for your strength, but a part of me wishes you’d buckle. (It’s quite a big part of me, actually. Can you guess which part it is?) ;)

I shouldn’t write more. I’m not in the best frame of mind. I’m trying too hard. I hope to wake up tomorrow feeling less despondent. I think I’ll devote my writing time this weekend to communicating with you properly, so I’m sure my letter writing here will cease for a few days. I hope you’re prepared to hear from me every hour on the hour until I see you again. Brace yourself for an onslaught of drivel.

~Daniel

xoxoxo…

Hi, sweetheart,

How are you faring, my lovely? By now you’ll have received my mother’s care package and hopefully had a chance to enjoy dinner. Isn’t Patty’s pie amazing? And I hope you like the picture I gave you. I apologize for the rambling, nonsensical note I enclosed. I’ve been a wreck all weekend, to be honest, but I had to make some contribution to the package, since I clearly had nothing to do with the cooking.

You should have seen my mom, Patty, and Penny putting that parcel together in the kitchen while Brad and Jeremy kept my dad busy in the living room. It’s safe to say that my mother is just as eager as we are for the semester to be over (well, maybe not QUITE as eager as we are…). She was saddened by the thought of you spending Easter alone and looks forward to the time when you can join us for family gatherings. She doesn’t want you to hate her. I assured her that wasn’t the case. (I hope that’s not the case…) It was good of Penny and Brad to drop the package off for you. I told Penn to give you a hug for me. I hope she delivered.

Okay, poppet, I won’t write more here. I think I’ll email you now instead. I’m in dire need of some good-night words from you.

Talk to you soon,

~Daniel

xoxoxo…

Hi, my beautiful girl,

I’m still reeling from our afternoon visit. It was so unexpected, but so wonderful to see you. I don’t want to waste time writing about Cara and the foolishness that prompted your visit in the first place. It was a horrible misunderstanding, and I can only hope that you’ll never feel as if you have to keep something so important from me again. I didn’t realize my anxiety issues frightened you so much, but rest assured, I’m accustomed to talking myself down. Don’t ever avoid telling me something because you think I might get upset. I’ll be fine. As for your concerns about Cara, I understand your worries, but I think I have that situation well in hand.

But enough of that. There are far more important things I want to think about. I can’t articulate how wonderful it felt to finally to tell you that I love you. I’m sure there can’t have been a single doubt in your mind about my feelings for you, but speaking those words? I feel entirely liberated. And have you any idea how comforting it was to hear you say you love me, too? There aren’t adequate adjectives to describe how happy I am right now. Spending time with you this afternoon was an amazing bonus, especially since I thought I wouldn’t see you again until Wednesday!

I know it sounds ridiculous, but our separations always plant seeds of doubt in my mind, allowing fears to run rampant in my heart. An afternoon with you in my arms—an hour of your kisses, your touch, your sweet words—has filled my heart and wiped out my despair, leaving me feeling whole again. Thank you so much for the lovely gift. I look forward to listening to the CD when you have the notes ready to share. I don’t know what else to say, other than thank you, and I love you—so much—I wish I could properly explain how much. As Mistress Ford told her Falstaff,
“Heaven knows how I love you; and you shall one day find it.”
Or perhaps I’ll steal Walter Bagehot’s idea. He once said in a letter to his wife Eliza that he was at a loss for words and thought he might simply write in big letters I LOVE YOU all the way across the page to emphasize his feelings. Let’s try that out, shall we?

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU…!

Yes, that sums it up quite nicely.

Childishly and unequivocally yours,

~Daniel

xoxoxo…

P.S. I LOVE YOU!