Restless Things

My Dearest Friend

I will tell you everything now, as I find myself in the position of little choice but to divulge my very character. I must first confess something. And I believe the first time I say it you may not fully understand what I mean, so I shall tell you in detail; my mind is on fire. Before you can mutter the words "what the hell is that supposed to mean?" I will endeavor to make it clear to you below.

I am alit. I am burning alive. It is my mind, it desires too much. You may wish to have me, but what I wish for cannot be satisfied. I want to travel, to every nation, to every culture. I want to experience the sexual intrigues of every land, I want to smell every plant, taste every food- until I am sick on all of it. And then I shall want more (even though this is not my right). I want to dance to every foreign beat of music until I cannot feel my own body. I want to learn every language until my tongue has tasted every word. I long madly to understand everything. I want to know what it feels like to leave earth's gravity, or sail across a rough and rowdy sea. And I will be terrified. But I know that I cannot stop or I shall be driven mad by my lust for it.

Sylvia Plath once wrote "I desire the things which will destroy me in the end." She desired so much. She longed for more than any average life could possibly offer her. She felt the particularly acute pain of being so utterly average. She killed herself in 1963.

I understand this. I am so utterly, entirely, painfully, average. I desire more than I may ever obtain by natural means. I live in a constricting cell which serves to cage me in a vessel of senses that may never be satisfied. You must understand, I want more than a simple life; more than to settle down. I cannot. I am not crafted for such things. I am not molded for such a life. So when you see me, and you catch a glimpse of something lovely, and you wish to be apart of that, remember that I am not static. I am not still. I am on fire, burning to ashes and becoming alit again.

And if I were to offer you my love, or my romance, there will come a day where to you it seems as though I am not satisfied. It will seem as though it is not enough for me. Perhaps you will think I am bored. Or I have tired of you. But I will tell you now, my friend, it is not you. It is not us. It is my mind. It ignites itself vehemently and it cannot be abated. I cannot force myself to stay still- with anyone. 

Now that you are at least aware of my disposition, I may describe to you fuller my sentiments. I am afraid. Not "scared" or "terrified," but simply afraid. And that fear derives from the unknown. I cannot predict precisely what will come out of any intercourse between two people, I cannot predict what consequences await any form or deviation of relationship. I can only guess. And there is so much I should like to say, but it is hard for me to find the words that will sufficiently carry my meaning.

I suppose I ought to tell you plainly, now that you have read my self-description, why we simply would not be compatible in the particular way you desire. We do not want the same things from romance. We do not want the same style or nature of relationship- particularly in terms of romance, or what you may consider romantic. I do not want, nor would I be happy, in the same romantic relationship structure which you design. I never have been and I never shall be.

I have told you many times before how I cannot be still, I will not settle, and that is precisely what you have described yourself wanting. And because that is not for me, I am not for you. Furthermore, my kind friend, your spirit is far too different than mine in all concerns regarding love and romance. You form strong bonds where I find them unnecessary (I am speaking now in terms of sexual conduct). You and I do not share the same character and I am sure my sharper character would only serve to cut yours down until you are raw and wounded. I am more naturally detached in my disposition, more explorative and unrestricted in my partner interests. Monogamy will never last for me. Every relationship will simply serve its purpose to me, and then end as I wish it to. So that I may then go on to experience something new. It is this termination which I suspect our friendship will not survive. And so to save the friendship, and your spirit, I must prohibit it from beginning.