Friends,
I have written, and re-written this letter so many times. And I feel like I start off a few letters like that, and I want to go back and read them to see what the topics were.
Sometimes, I feel the need to make them perfect. Especially when I have so many things that I want to say and get off my chest.
Sometimes, I want to craft this perfectly poetic piece that fits beautifully into my IG feed + stories.
And sometimes, I just want to talk to you. No aesthetic required.
Let me fill you in. I’m in a pair of purple sweats. It’s 10 PM on a Tuesday night. I just ordered a diavola pizza and potato croquettes.
I deserve delivery on a Tuesday night, I tell myself.
I deserve it.
God, there’s so much to say.
First, I want to start off telling you about my favourite YouTube tarot reader / astrologer. I just finished watching her Gemini June 2023 reading - and there was this analogy she used that I feel like fits so well into this newsletter. “The Diamond Analogy” - she calls it, or the “throwing pearls before swine” analogy.
Some people do not know the value of diamonds when they find them. A lot of them are thrown away, and tossed to the side. But the key here is: they do not know their value. They do not know how to handle them. They aren’t equipped with the right tools to recognize their importance.
So, can we really take anything personally if someone is just not equipped with the right tools and knowledge to appreciate us for who we really are? Not really.
I’m going to be completely honest with everyone here. As I wait for my diavola pizza and potato croquettes.
Out of all of the flings that I’ve had over the past year and a bit - only two of those men have been single (one of them being Peter Pan, thank god).
And, in the sake of me being honest, there have been quite a few flings.
“There’s a theme here.”
I tell an old friend / past lover / my first muse (let’s call him that: Our First Muse) the story of a recent meet-up.
“I know.” I tell him. “It’s hard to not feel reduced to a body.”
There’s two analogies that I like to use to describe being an unknown, and unwilling third party in a situation.
One - feeling like the prey that the lion carries to his tribe (do lions do this? I just assume they do) in order to prove something. To who? I’m not exactly sure.
I really did something here. I imagine this lion saying to himself.
And the other - feeling like you are being led down this dark hallway. And I use the term led - because that is exactly what they are doing.
You have no idea how you got there, you didn’t want to be there in the first place, and now you have no choice but to hold on to the hand in front of you, even though you know they are free to let go at any moment.
And once they let go, that’s it. That’s it for them, and that’s it for you. No closure, it’s never required when you are just the other.
You are now left alone in the dark hallway, trying to feel your way around for any way out. Trying your hardest not to view yourself from their eyes.
A body, an opportunity, a forgettable moment in time.
Now, I have grown up a lot over the past year. I do not feel the need to hop on the plane and go across the world to feel normal again.
You can be the smartest person in the room. You can go on a podcast to talk about death and love, and how it’s all intertwined. You can self-publish a book of poetry. You can start and excel at running your own business with drive, hustle, creativity, and heart. You can have this incredible newsletter, with an even more incredible community following it.
(And am I talking about my own achievements? Yes. Mainly, because I need a moment to be reminded of them. And quite frankly, we should all be talking about our achievements more.)
Diamonds. The way they have made you feel in this brief moment in time (I say brief, because it will be brief) - does not take away from anything you have created, anything you have built, or anything you stand for.
And can anyone really take your power away when you speak your truth? When you write your truth? The pen, baby.
The pen is our power.
-
On to Our First Muse.
He’s in our life for a reason. We first met six years ago.
I was newly single, and out with a girlfriend who, ironically, I met through my first ex-boyfriend. If my ex-boyfriend was ever useful for anything - it was for introducing me to this girlfriend, who, thus, introduced me to Our First Muse.
“I want you to meet my friend.” She tells me at Terroni one night.
“Ugh, I can’t even thinking about meeting anyone new right now.”
I had just come off the heels of a tumultuous break-up, and was hell bent on living out my best single life without any drama.
Unfortunately, (or fortunately), after a glass and a half of Pinot Grigio, it is very easy to change my mind.
She drags me to a bar where he, Our First Muse, is out with 3 of his friends.
He sits down right nexts to me.
A few glasses of Pinot in - and I am in no mood to play games, nor play it cool, nor play it casual.
I look around the room. “Can you give me the gossip on all of your friends? I want to hear all the drama, I want to hear all the stories.”
He looks at me with a twinkle in his eye.
“You’re the type who starts the fire, walks away, and pretends she didn’t know anything - aren’t you? We’re going to get along great.”
And here we are, six years later. A brief romance. A few hook-ups in the years that followed. And, I won’t lie, two semi-disappointed hearts that might have made their way in between all of those years.
But, I still welcome his messages.
Sitting at a cafe, I give him a recap of my latest unknown - third party, disaster of a messy date.
“Listen, I don’t blame anyone for trying to sleep with you. But you’re also 99% more intelligent and interesting to talk to than a lot of people.”
I screenshot this. For when we need the reminder.
“You know what’s funny?” He continues.
“I was thinking, the other day. In all this time that I’ve known you - our conversations have been different, but they somehow always end up feeling the same.”
“It’s the banter.” I tell him. “And in all honesty, in six years - I have never met anyone else that matches our level of banter.”
I think we were always meant to be friends, I tell him this too.
“I feel similar.”
“Similar or the same?”
“You noticed my word choice. The same, Emily. I feel the same.”
“Promise to fill me in on your date on Tuesday?”
“I will, but only if it’s bad.”
I start to laugh.
He goes on. “Maybe I’m getting too soft, but I really wish I could give you a hug right now.”
There’s a time and place for our banter, I’ve learned. And then there’s a time and place to drop the defence mechanisms.
This is one of those times.
I find myself getting hit with the tiniest bit of nostalgia.
“I really wish you could, too.”
Oh, Our First Muse.
Oh, and before I forget. Peter Pan?
Want to know something?
The Object of Our Past Newsletters and Peter Pan. There’s a connection there. A very close connection.
Remember? The girl who starts the fire, walks away, pretending as though she had no idea what was happening.
Oh my friends, she knows. She knows exactly what is happening.
This newsletter is getting too long, now.
And I guess this is what happens when I don’t write for aesthetics.
More on Peter Pan later.
I love you. We’re all diamonds, aren’t we?
Xo,
Emily