Men and boys

Yesterday, I was scrolling along Facebook, looking for something fun or funny or maybe even suggestive to send your way, when this old adage appeared: “Men apologize, boys make excuses.”

I don't know, really, which I am, and which I really do… but here is my attempt to be a man — to be the man, the best man that I know how to be, for you.

I'm sorry that things are complicated. I wish they didn't have to be. If I had a wand to somehow rearrange the atoms of the universe so that you and I were by each other's sides, I would wave it, now, instantly, without a second's hesitation. But I haven't got such a thing, so I have to unwind this web I've weaved by hand. I'm sorry that that's been such slow going. I admit, maybe I wasn't trying hard enough in the beginning. Maybe I spent too much time waiting for that magic act, waiting for the right person to be the right kind of charming to her (again), waiting for something to happen.

And I'm sorry for that.

I'm sorry that it's recently seemed to get more complicated, not less. That things are happening that from the outside may make it appear that I'm becoming more entrenched. I'm sorry that that may even be a little bit true, in the short term. I'm sorry if I haven't made more clear that my goal remains the same, that you are still and always will be my destination.

I'm trying not to make excuses, but I do need to say that the one thing, the one that's done out of love and not some misguided attempt to bury some shame and guilt, that one will be with me, no doubt, for the rest of my life… but it's being set on a path, a good path, and sooner than you're likely to expect, the immediate crisis will be over and enough momentum will have been built…

But I'm sorry that when you asked about that one I choked… I told you the truth, but not all of it. I'm sorry that I have difficulty being more openly critical, when it's just us two. I hope, though, that you get it, and think you probably do.

I'm sorry that the other thing is even happening. I'm sorry about that, not only to you. I think I did let my guard down a bit more when we talked about it, but I'm sorry I didn't open to you completely there, either. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you that I'm torn between already feeling trapped and feeling like it could be the final wedge. I'm sorry that I even feel that way, it feels so wrong and against my general nature. I'm sorry I haven't shown you the full extent of my frustration, for you to truly understand where I'm at.

I'm sorry I didn't leave her when I could, when I had the excuse and it would have been easy. I know this is an excuse, but that was years before I fell head over heels for you, and I don't know if this would've happened if I had been somewhere else. I'm sorry I didn't do so when I first felt the stirrings of feelings for you, or when I first realized that love was a thing of the past. I'm sorry that so far I've been the proof in the pudding that “men don't leave.” But I'm also sorry about what you might think of me if I had.

Most of all, I'm sorry this isn't easy.

But… I wonder if, in the end, it won't be better because it's not. In that same Facebook session, another thing scrolled by that made me think of you. I didn't save it and I could scroll forever and never find it again and I know it said this better than I could ever hope to, but the gist was… the best love is the love you weren't looking for, it sneaks up on you when you least expect it, but then once you find it, it everlasting and beautiful.

I've liked you too much from the start, true enough. But I wasn't looking to fall in love with you. And yet, here we are. My whole entire heart belongs to you. When I sign my letters with “Yours,” it is the complete and utter truth. A confession. I am yours. Entirely. And I know the roads ahead of us are still long and treacherous. I know sometimes it looks like they stretch on forever, parallel and never meeting. But that's an illusion, I'm sure of it. They meet. They combine. They become as one and stretch off into that beautiful sunset, like a cheesy old movie. I just know it.

And I'm sorry that I haven't told you.

I love you.

Yours.