Seven years ago I drove to Defcon X in Las Vegas from Maine in an aluminum Postal Service step-van I had bought off ebay. I had two friends with me, and two of us voted that the third shouldn’t drive too much. Consequently, the remaining drivers had a lot of sleep deprived hours spent in the cab. To make matters more interesting, his girlfriend of some number of years had broken up with him, and as it turned out she had feelings for me. I was a bit surprised by this, and had very little relationship experience to boot. Struggling tremendously with my own growth, another relationship brewing, and stuck in the middle of the two of them, I suddenly found myself with fewer friends I could talk to. Once at our hotel we set up wireless in our room with an IRC server. The three of us ended up chatting with each other, while sitting with our laptops in the same room, and the topic of his ex-girlfriend came up again. When I look back at that time, I recall preferring to talk to others online and wanting to be talking over IRC. It was more natural for me at the time. I could think, respond, backspace, correct.

Years later I had a long term relationship with more downs than ups. She preferred sitting down and talking, but I preferred email because I could keep on subject and track by re-reading points. I was comfortable talking by then, but I had a really difficult time understanding where she was going. In retrospect a lot of that was because her logic was flawed and self-centered for her own survival, while simultaneously touting how self-less she was, likely as an internal diversion.

And now I find myself more eager to hold someone and talk than ever before. It’s a trend I don’t see reversing. I have so very much to say and share, but nobody special in my life to receive it. Some that I’m close to, is because we used to date and it is unfair to put them in that place. One it isn’t unfair, but they’re unwilling recipients because they aren’t comfortable to open themselves up to be that vulnerable. Another likely has no idea how much I want to share with them, but I fear it’s too inappropriate without greater context to let them know. Friends and family can listen, and we can bond, but I yearn for something more personal, perhaps, unique, and special.

So for different reasons, my heart is full of unwritten letters stamped return to sender before the ink is dry.

I’ve often been accused of coming on strongly, and personal discussions over the last month have drawn a decent circle around the cause of this. My feelings are articulated verbally in a way that is uncommon. The thing is, that at the core of this is not a beast to be burdened, but a gentle heart looking to give. That comes off a little corny, but I stand behind it. I have good things to offer, and if they’re difficult to accept, I’m more than happy to be supportive along the way.

Which is, to say, I’m here to listen, and only want those around me to find real happiness. How is it that I so often find that my supportive nature is treated like it’s veiled expectations? “What’s up?” means exactly what it sounds. One doesn’t need to read between any lines with me. One simply needs to tell me how they feel.