Things I would have Liked to Say to You the Last Time we ever Spoke.

Via on Oct 10, 2013

 fitzgerald girl

A Last Letter to Cold Girls of Old Winters’ Past.

“Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat.
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

We have not seen one another since that night when you wore pink or orange or white pants, or that night where we sat up on the hillside and argued, pleasantly. We said goodbye, never—we simply never said hello again.

There are things you should know, things you should hear. But I can not care, any more. You are gone to me. But I do care, if only slightly, out of respect for the memory of our courtship. And so I would say a few things, and tuck this letter into a bottle, and set the bottle adrift in a river. And perhaps it will float to Denver, or Boston, or Santa Monica, or Vancouver, or San Francisco, or just downtown from here. I do not care, more than a little, anymore.

I would like to have said these things, for your own good, so that you would cease hurting good men and allowing yourself to be held by bad men.

I would say that your beauty made it difficult to breathe.

I would like to say I do not mind not being friends with you, now, for what is left to me is the memory of you and the others and our bad dates and our bad whiskey and our bad dancing and our bad brunch. I remember only your wide open eyes, narrowing…my temporary charm and your ice, melting in the hands of memory as a frozen polaroid, perfect as the autumn leaves veined in orange and lit-up orange. And then they fall, dry, over, beige fodder for future seasons.

I would like to say that you were cruel to me, and many others, because you could be cruel, because you knew the power you possessed. And you did not use your power for good: you used it as a salve for laziness, for loneliness, for insecurity.

But your power could not hold me for long, for I was not ultimately interested in merely admiring, then possessing you as the others did for your beauty: your fantastic style, your elfin eyes, your young breasts, your long hair, your fit arms, your strong neck, your naked butt, your muscular shoulders, your lean legs, your cheap necklace.

Those things were like a chime, unto my ears, a beautiful call that sounded through space and riveted my attention. Riveting like Beethoven, like a shadowed symphony. But I was not blinded by your wonderfully arrogant beauty: I kept looking, and as I looked, you softened, and as you softened…you made a poor choice.

You played cold games with me—as you did with the others.


“All that grace, all that body, all that face, makes me want to party…will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful. I know that you will. Will you still love me?”


But you did not think of this: it takes two to play. And I can not play sad games with you.

My cold games are fun: snowshoeing, with my dog; or sledding below Chautauqua; or building a snowman in the snowy park; or throwing snowballs at heavy trees to relieve their aching branches. Your games are something out of Cosmo, they smell like perfume samples, and they prick the hearts of nice guys (who always lose).

redford fitzgerald

“Our lives are defined by opportunities, even the ones we miss.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

And I know you: I know you are better than that. And I respect myself: I am too patient, and strong in my broken places (shinjanged), or grown up, and I am not desperate for something that does not exist.

I am desperate for your honesty, for your hasty laughter, for your gentle breath, for your inspiring orgasm, for your salted tears, for your true friendship, for your cozying into my couch in the winter beneath a red blanket when I bring you fresh steaming tea and you continue reading my used book to me, sitting beneath you on the carpet facing and feeding the fireplace. I am desperate for your love, or for your caring if you prefer—you are afraid of that word, for desperate boys have ballooned it at you all your externally beautiful life.

And so you sought after cruel boys who did not love but wanted, who disrespected you, or for troubled, weak boys who did not deserve you.

And so I let you hang up on me and so I relaxed my pursed lips and so I drew a hot bath and listened to my dog sigh in his sleep. And so I will close my day, offering you a bow. And so I will cozy into my bed, warming the cool spots with my long strong legs and I will watch half a movie and work on my laptop, for my dreams are dreams I can blow air into, and make real. And they are dreams of service: dreams of domination in service of the greater good, and the daily good. And later I will dream, my aching shoulder wounded, pinned beneath me.

You teach me, again and again, five times now, not to dream of you. And I have listened. These words are not words of love, but words. And I do not imagine love, for that is not love.

And I would remind you: I am not weak and I am not one of your fans and I do not need that fifth reminder. Thank you, for nothing.

And nothing is a gift, space is a playground, and time and distance are merely peaks and valleys in our symphony, if we choose to listen to it again and again and again and again and again and more.

For I know what I deserve, and it is someone who is not afraid of miles. Love does not see a map, for it does not need it. Love does not heed the time, for it does not trace its roots against the months of one or two calendars. Love is not bothered by obstacles—they are brought to the path.

And my love will wait, like a tiger on a leash, and my love will relax, and curl up and nap, and sigh. And you will be there, or you will not: I can not tell and it is not for me to determine.

I am here.



“There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald



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You just read the tenth.

Read the first, Things I would like to do with you in the Woods.

Read the second, Things I would like to do with you this Evening.

Read the third, Things I would like to Remember about our day in Vermont.

Read the fourth, Things I would like to do with you in Time.

Read the fifth, Things I Would Like to do with You Before I Lose You.

Read the sixth, Things I would like to hear when you are Confused.

Read the seventh, Things I would like to say to you without you Knowing.

Read the eighth, Things I would like to do with you when you visit my Home.

Then read the ninth, Things I would like for us to know before we Fall in Love.

About Waylon Lewis

Waylon Lewis, founder of elephant magazine, now & host of Walk the Talk Show with Waylon Lewis, is a 1st generation American Buddhist “Dharma Brat." Voted #1 in U.S. on twitter for #green two years running, Changemaker & Eco Ambassador by Treehugger, Green Hero by Discovery’s Planet Green, Best (!) Shameless Self-Promoter at Westword's Web Awards, Prominent Buddhist by Shambhala Sun, & 100 Most Influential People in Health & Fitness 2011 by "Greatist", Waylon is a mediocre climber, lazy yogi, 365-day bicycle commuter & best friend to Redford (his rescue hound). His aim: to bring the good news re: "the mindful life" beyond the choir & to all those who didn't know they gave a care. | | | | | Google+ For more: publisherelephantjournalcom


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9 Responses to “Things I would have Liked to Say to You the Last Time we ever Spoke.”

  1. elephantjournal says:

    FB comments:

    Divya R This reads like poetry..

    Alyssa F this is beautiful in a deeply sad way

    Jenny H These are my favorite of all elephant posts. Have you considered posting a female response/version of them?

    Waylon Lewis Go for it! I'm unable to do so.

    Christine L Brilliant! Love, love, love. This is my new favorite out of all of them. These are soooo worthy of being printed. I will certainly have a copy and it will be dog-eared in no time.

    Sarah P "For I know what I deserve, and it is someone who is not afraid of miles. Love does not see a map, for it does not need it. Love does not heed the time, for it does not trace its roots against the months of one or two calendars. Love is not bothered by obstacles—they are brought to the path."

    Thank you. That particular part is exactly what I needed to read right now.

    Nicole V The way you have with words/life! Im excited to hear your going to to be printing soon

    Jenny H On this quote: "'Our live are defined by opportunities, even the ones we miss.' ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald" add an S on the end of "live"
    Waylon Lewis Whoops! Huge thanks.

    Nellie Goldsmith Waylon this is beautiful!

    Jenny H Message me!
    Waylon Lewis I'd love it! Just send to and say we talked? The only theme I'm observing is to put some quotes in each, perhaps an appropriate song or video, and to use the "I would like to" formality, along with minimal colloquial language. Keeping kinda formal.
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  2. Christine Eaves says:

    I've cherished every one of these, but this one has to be my favorite. Exquisitely written, W. Simply WOW.

  3. elephantjournal says:

    Carissa: (email):

    I can't figure out how to comment from my phone. Hence, the short email. This piece is out of left field! Wow. Brutal and by that I mean great…always surprising. Wonderfully straightforward. I sincerely hope this isn't based on fact… too sad. Fluxustulip


    Whoops, sorry about the ALL CAPS there. It is based in experience, but that's okay! Dating is hard, sometimes, and (hopefully) we learn from it, good and bad, happy and sad!



  4. Janey says:

    Lovely words, Modern day Romeo! Wow.

  5. cemilygo says:

    Do contact me. I have been where you are and have also been beloved. I KNOW it is never too late. Do not let go. Tell her, sill boy. If you need to know this in you heart, I have extra to share.

  6. melissa says:

    My favorite so far. Love is in the tenderness and warmth that is felt when cherished inside and out.

  7. Jen says:

    Breathtaking…literally. I've been that girl.

  8. lovely. I have connected so much with each one of these. I have been on a similar path it seems. Which is now not saying hello again and wishing for at least goodbye. thanks for these.

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