Sometimes I feel like I am 4 years old with you.
And sometimes, it feels like we are best friends.
Sometimes it feels like we were ancient together,
and I was holding your hand as we ran around on so many adventures.
And I loved to tell you stories.
I love so much, telling you my stories.
And I never meant for my words to change you.
I never wanted my words to hurt you.
I only just wanted to share with you
all of my stories.
I love giving you my stories.
And I love most of all, hearing your stories.
But most of all, my favorite story
is the one where we met,
and we lived free and wild.
And we had so many beautiful things…
And I love to talk about the stories.
How it feels like I’ve found a small, shiny rock,
and I get so excited that all that I want
is to run over to you and show you my rock.
And I never meant to hurt you.
I always only loved you.
I think – I know – I will always love you.
Because it feels like, for me,
like we are 4 years old and ancient together at once.
But I was so bad at love, and I wasn’t prepared.
And I fucked up so many things.
But also I struggle to live outside of my stories.
And it still feels like sometimes we are 4 years old.
And sometimes it feels like we’re best friends.
And sometimes it does feel like we’re so much more than lovers,
For me. I know it’s not this way for you.
And sometimes it feels like we’re ancient together.
It feels like we are all of those things often at once… for me, anyway.
This is one of my stories.
It’s just another story.
It’s like a small, shiny rock for you to look at.
It’s not for you to take in or keep.
And all that I want is to tell you my stories,
and to learn how to share them with you
So that they don’t hurt you.
So that they don’t change you.
Because I love you exactly as you are,
and I want us both to be free.
But I had no idea how strong my words are.
How much I did force them in you.
I told you things that weren’t stories at all.
There were words that I said that hurt you.
And that makes me sad
and that makes me regret,
But I’m growing and I’m learning.
This isn’t a plea. It isn’t a rehash…
This isn’t anything worth saying again.
It is just part of our story.
All of this has been our story.
If I had a wish, it would only be that I could tell you my stories every day
and always without them ever hurting you.
Without them ever changing you.
I would just say, “Here, Juanito! Look at my story!”
And I would drop it into your hands like a small, shiny rock.
So excited I feel like I’ll burst!
“I wish to share this with you!”
But please. It isn’t meant to change you.
And I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt you.”
It still feels like we’re 4 years old and best friends
sharing rocks at a stream. For me anyway.
And it still feels like we’re ancient, and I’ve known you forever.
But this is just my story.
And I only wish I could say all the things to you that I see
Without them ever hurting you.
Without them ever changing you.
Sometimes, I am the hero of my stories.
And sometimes, you are the hero of my stories.
And sometimes, we adventure alongside each other.
(Those are my favorite stories)
And sometimes, we play and we fight, and we love and we cry.
And sometimes we took turns to comfort each other.
Neither of us could bear the other’s pain.
And sometimes you’d ask me to change the channel.
And sometimes you’d zone out or forget.
But always we both took turns dropping the world to be there for the other in need.
And all of this has been our story.
And these are all of my stories.
Well… These are some of my stories.
I love so much, telling you all of these things.
I want to tell you how much you always remind me of who I am.
I want to tell you how beautiful this has been with you despite all of the pain.
And this is why I call you “Beautiful Man.”
And these are all of the things I’ve been holding inside.
These are all of the things I’ve been trying to say.
But this isn’t meant to hurt you.
It isn’t meant to change you.
It’s only meant to show you.
And for you to go, “Oooh… That’s nice.”
But then to throw it away like a small, shiny rock,
without taking any of it into you
because it is just my story.
And when you look at my stories,
when you play with me,
when you adventure with me…
It feels like you know me.
It feels like you see me.
It feels like we’re children again.
And something about you always makes me
feel like I’m me!
But this is just my story.
And I want to tell you stories.
And I want to learn how to give you my words
Without them ever again hurting or changing you.
But most of all, I want to know your stories.
I want to know what you need.
I want to make this easier on you.
To learn this once and for all.
So there. This has been just one of my stories.
My letters, from now on, are just my stories.
And this is one that I really wanted to share with you tonight.
Merry Christmas.