"Be well aware," quoth then that Ladie milde, "Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash provoke: The danger hid, the place unknowne and wilde, Breedes dreafull doubts: Oft fire is without smoke, And perill without show: therefore your stroke Sir knight with-hold, till further triall made." "Ah Ladie," said he, "shame were to revoke The forward footing for an hidden shade: Vertue gives her selfe light, though darkenesse for to wade."
"Yea but," quoth she, "the perill of this place I better wot then you, though now too late To wish you bake returne with foule disgrace, Yet wisdome warnes, whilest foot is in the gate, To stay the stepe, ere forced to retrate. This is the wandring wood, this Errours den, A monster vile, whom God and man does hate: Therefore I read beware." "Fly fly," quoth then The fearefull Dwarfe: "this is no place for living men."
"And then the line went quiet but not dead. I almost felt like he was there in my room with me, but in a way it was better, as if I was not in my room and he was not in his, but instead we were together in some invisible and tenuous third space that could only be visited by phone."
When I read a message written by you, it brings me back to the time when we knew each other well. When we saw one another daily, and when our experiences were more similar. I remember that when we were first considering moving to Vancouver Island, my mother asked me whether I wanted to go or not. Looking back on my thought process upon hearing that question, I have to laugh. But at the time, it seemed like the most sensical thing in the world to base a decision on: Will I be able to stand living that far away from you? That far away from the girl who I can see myself marrying? And as much as I laugh at my past folly of thought, I cannot help being brought back to my old sentiments. I wish that I was there for you. And tell you that it'll be alright. I wish I could be the guy that you would never have to feel anxious about. And when I did fuck up (which I would) I would find a way to fix it. Because you deserve it. But, I'm not there. And right now, I am round about half a continent away from you. And as important as my sentiments towards you are...they won't transport me there. And they won't make everything okay.
So instead, a few words?
I'm fucking glad you got out of that. But as you seem to know, there's still ground to be covered? And if you're anything like me, no one else can fix you. You'll have to do it yourself - piece by piece, memory by painful memory. I'm here if you need me, though. A phone call is only worth so much...but it is worth something.