if you’re in new york…

Dear Soulmate,

I’m writing to you from a New York bound train where I’m comforted by the movement and passing scenery. Am I the only who feels like anything is possible and within reach on a train to New York?

They say that you go to New York with a dream. Well, mine is nothing shiny and larger than life, yet it still feels out of reach. And, ironically, my dream is not one of love, but of passion instead.

I only wish to follow my heart in such a way that it benefits others as well as myself. I have expectations–great expectations–for myself. The challenge will be living up to them.

I know the city lights of New York will pose a temporary distraction from loneliness, but after living in cities like Boston and Dublin, I know that city life breeds loneliness if you let it. The abrasive edges of a city skyline are cold and foreboding. The shuffling of strangers on sidewalks can remind you that you are more alone than you thought you were.

But I’m not taking loneliness to New York, though I doubt that it won’t find me at some point. The struggle is keeping positive, and knowing that no matter how greatly you’ve loved in the past, there’s still more to give.

If you’re in New York now, or are on your way, keep an open heart. You never know what will find you… or who you’ll meet.

Love Love, R

it’s you

Dear Soulmate,

The reason I haven’t been writing as much is because I’m at a loss for words… could I have found you?

The past few days have been a dream… and although I’m scared at the possibility of falling in love again, it could very well be inevitable.

All I can say for now… is that you have to keep believing that it’s out there.

I will write more soon, I promise!

Love Love, R

21st century… love?

Dear Soulmate,

I’ve learned a lot over the past few years. One thing I’ve learned is to beware of emotional attachment.

I recall when I felt something rare for someone a few years ago who then made me feel punished for doing so. Since then, I do not get involved when deep matters of the heart are concerned.

I’ve learned to convince myself that I live with an open heart, when I know deep down its buried under lock and key, hidden behind a barbed wire fence, and shielded over with a layer of bulletproof steel.

On Saturday night, when I found myself dancing in the arms of an intriguing stranger, I knew that nothing would become of it. I knew that the sun would rise the next day and we would resume our lives as though nothing happened. And as quickly and easily as two trains running on opposite tracks, we would lose touch and forget that we ever passed each other in that fleeting moment in time.

So what’s to be done then, when it comes to playing by the rules of this this 21st century love–if there is even such a thing?

I’ve learned to make the most of every intimate encounter, however brief it may be. I’ve learned to relish the moments when I’m held, cherish the times I’ve been kissed and absolutely be swept away in those moments when I am wholeheartedly wanted by someone, however short that time may be–be it a dance across a porch floor at midnight or a morning in someone’s arms.

Because after all… every lit bit of love is something, is it not?

Love Love, R

p.s. one more week until September’s letter will be chosen… have you written yours in yet? write a letter to your soulmate and e-mail it in to letters2soulmate@gmail.com and yours could be featured in the spotlight on your soulmate, your letter

say what you need to say

Dear Soulmate,

I’ll admit I used to play mind games. I used to tell guys exactly the opposite of what I was really feeling for them. I used to run from them when all I really wanted was to run to them. I used to shrug off the idea of love, talking only about it in casual conversation. I used to do all these things as a way of protecting myself and my heart.

Little did I know that I was only hurting myself.

If you’ve ever been one to say the opposite of what you feel, had too much pride to admit to someone that they’ve hurt you, then I can pass along something I learned this weekend that has changed the way I look at love.

I woke up this morning to a blinding summer sun that streamed in through my bedroom window. I squinted to open my eyes to the reality of my hangover. And then I felt a familiar feeling of hurt that I thought I had boxed away and put into the attic of my mind, never to be opened again.

For anyone who has been keeping up with these letters, it’s no suprise that I have been hurt in the past. Most people have. I always reason that it’s not shameful because it demonstates the depths of your feelings.

And in the lingering haze of my Sunday morning, I decided to lace up my running shoes to clear my head–my favorite remedy for a mental hangover.

As I ran down the dirt road alongside the ocean, I thought about Saturday night. A friend of mine who I’ve shared a few crazy nights with recently brushed me aside in a cold-shoulder kind of way for no reason… to the point where he didn’t even say goodnight to me. It was a vast departure from the night before.

I felt frustrated, cheated, and the worst of ALL feelings–that makes me cringe to even think about, let alone type–used. More importantly, I began to reevaluate him as a friend. I started to wonder if he was actually one of those guys–the kind who checks girls, even those he’s friends with, off their list and then ignore.

But rather than muse over this any longer I decided to confront him. As it turns out he nearly beat me to it. He said he regretted last night and before he spoke any further I said I appreciated that he confronted me. And then I told him that I deserved to be treated a lot better than that, and that I am not mad at him, but rather simply relieved he’s not that mean of a person. When he apologized I immediately felt stronger.

As cliche as it sounds… Saturday night proved to be such a little episode that taught me so much. It is the most rewarding feeling in the world to stand your ground, say how you feel, and know that you are in control of your heart.

It is with unreserved enthusiasm that I write this letter to you now… letting you know that all these little experiences are going to lead me to you.

Love Love, R

p.s. my advice to you, dear readers, whether you are simply having a fun short-lived fling, or are in a lifelong marriage, say what you need to say… i promise you’ll be happy when you do!

a letter to the single ones

Dear Soulmate,

As I walked through the winding streets of the North End yesterday, in a desperate attempt to shield myself from the ever-invasive, unusually strong wind, I noticed a wet page from a newspaper that stubbornly clung to the sidewalk from the melted snowbanks.

The headline read in bold words, “Can’t buy me love.”

the best things in life are free

And that is exactly what I thought about as I made my way home. How silly and pretentious it is to buy roses and chocoloates as a means of saying “I love you.”

From my experiences in love, I have always felt that the most simple and unexpected gestures are always the most meaningful. Recall that feeling of finding one another’s gaze across a crowded room and smiling. Or when, in the middle of the night, you feel their hand pull yours closer toward them to rest it on their chest. Or even when they unexpectedly put their arms around you from behind as you read the mail in the kitchen.

These gestures all say, ‘I love you.’

And now I realize, as I have gotten used to sleeping alone and standing on my own two feet without the expectation of someone walking beside me, that maybe we have got Valentine’s Day all wrong.

It isn’t about a day for lover’s- for they celebrate Valentine’s Day everyday, and they do so in subtle, beautiful ways. Valentine’s Day is a day to remind people that they, too, will find that kind of love. It is a day for the single ones.

And while you cannot go out looking for love, you can at least open your heart to the possibility.

And no, no one can buy your love- it is too expensive.

Love, R

p.s. write your valentine today: “your soulmate, your letter”

where love used to be

Dear Soulmate,

Is it possible to miss someone whom you have never met?

This question has been on my mind for quite some time now. Perhaps it is the absence of a love that used to be that makes me long for a restorative kind of love to fill the void.

Because once you have walked beside someone you have loved, the walk is that much longer alone. Once you have held the hand of someone you have loved, your hands no longer feel as warm in their absence. Once you have sat in silence beside someone you have loved, you long for some kind of distracting noise when they have left. Anything to fill the silence- to fill the empty space where love used to be.

Where are you, dear soulmate? The first snow of the season has fallen outside my window and I dare not venture outside to make footprints in the snow without you.

This is the season for romance, a time for love.

Someday I know you will walk with me for miles, in what will feel like only a few feet in your company. Someday I know you will warm my cold hands. You will sit beside me and I will wonder, in silence, how I ever lived my life without you.

I know these things because I believe in you that much.

Love, R

the here and now

Dear Soulmate,

They say that dreams are your suppressed thoughts. Does that mean that whenever you have a dream about someone you loved from your past that you are really still in love with them?

Last night I awoke in tears, for the second time in my life. The dream I had just had was vivid, alive and felt as real as the events that transgressed last summer that left me feeling shattered like glass upon a tiled floor.

They say that time heals everything, which up until this morning I firmly believed. But the dream that I had was held at a memorial service for the one who I most recently lost in my life. I was about to deliver the speech that I prepared when upon looking out into the crowd, I saw him.

But he was not alone.

Instead he had his arms wrapped around another girl. I felt more hopelessly broken than I had in the past. How, I wonder, could love be so cruel?

In the morning light I found myself in the same troubled and inescapable state of mind. The expression on my face yielded a friend to ask what had happened, as though my thoughts were an open book. Like most receptive friends do, they realize when something is amiss.

“Maybe, you are not trying hard enough to get over him,” they said as I walked out of the room.

I thought about it for a moment, as I most always do when people who I trust offer me their advice. But for half a year now I have been optimistically trying to write the next chapter in my love life, despite that the previous pages of my story feel shredded, with words that bleed with ink from the tears I’ve cried.

Maybe I’m trying too hard to move on. Maybe I’m not trying hard enough. Maybe, I thought, I should just stop  trying and let life take me where it will.  Perhaps I should instead focus my energy on what really matters: right now.

So today I have decided just to breathe and not think about anything else but today. I have allowed my thoughts to wander only as far as asking what will happen today?

Love is crazy. But in spite of everything, isn’t it a beautiful journey?

Love, R