MoonDay 25, Season 6, Letter 1
Dear Anchor-
Last night was the most interesting experience . Maybe a singular experience. Because it was emotional, it’s difficult to put in word-symbols. Something will surely be lost in translation. But here’s my attempt:
While talking last night, as you spoke I was analyzing you. As I looked into your eyes, I suddenly felt you were wide open. The mask you usually wear was set aside. The windows in your eyes were flung open. I could see straight to your heart. I abruptly switched off. I was afraid. I’d felt something unspeakable. Horrible yet wonderful; at the same moment. I felt an overwhelming vulnerability about us. We were treading on tender fragile emotion. I fought to get myself back under control. I was ashamed. I felt I’d gone too far. I felt an intimacy which I’d never experienced. I quickly analyzed. Was this physical attraction? No. Intellectual attraction? Yes, somewhat, but more. Spiritual? Yes, but still more. The thought came, “I love this woman.” That was really upsetting. I don’t love someone I previously felt nothing towards. Why did I feel nothing before? Because you never showed the real you. Plus love for me meant something different than what I was feeling. This was new, an oddity.
How did I love you? Like a sister. That was when I interrupted you and asked, “If you could think of one word describing me what would it be?” You said, “Spirit.” “For me the word is sister, about you,” I said. You responded with the word, “Kinship.” I then said, “I knew you before.” I think you know what I mean. As I lay awake in the dark night, I knew more clearly, I discerned you in a special way. I felt as if we fought in the trenches together. Shoulder-to-shoulder, side-by-side. Assigned to the same unit. The SCARAB commandos, if you will. And we suffered and shared and wept over the casualties. We felt loneliness in those dreary moments. We made a pact, someday in the journey of life, when we felt all alone and could bear no more, we would find each other and lift each other.
I am no longer alone. I can’t explain how much you mean to me.
Now, I felt more the instant I looked into your soul. It was horrible and I repressed it. I didn’t want to feel it. I didn’t want you to show me. I didn’t want to live it. I didn’t want to cry. Yet, I did want it. I did. But I was afraid. Afraid to care that much. Yet I wanted to care that much. I love you but the pain was too much. I couldn’t bear it. I hope you’ll forgive me for not sharing your burden. But it was so abhorrent and despicable. Your childhood pain and hurt stabbed through me to my most delicate senses. Why you, Anchor? Why you? Why did it have to happen to you? You so fragile and innocent. Why? You who so many loved. The victim of horror.
I understand so much more about myself from having talked with you. I’ll never be the same probably. At least, I hope not.
It was so liberating to talk with you. To be us and not afraid of being smarty pants or an egghead or a goody-two shoes, or some other negative label like weirdo or strange.
I’ve seen the real you, Anchor, and I like you. In fact, I love you. No one understands me like you do.
Thanks for finding me.
Love- Driver
[Note: Driver never sent this letter.]