February 20, 2025

Love Letters and the Ace of Cups

Love is something that can stop us in our tracks. It can tilt the world sideways, but it can also set it right again. It is the one thing worth risking everything for, and I write that with my entire stupid heart. (Not wisely, but too well, etc.)

Earlier in the week, I read Peter S. Beagle’s gorgeous love letter/essay via the fabulous Sarah Gailey. (Gailey is brilliant and a brilliant human. I adore them.) It hit me like a thunderbolt, not unlike the way love does—a bright flash of understanding, recognition. Knowing in a particular way. Something we know, even if we do not at first name it. Beagle speaks of Nell in the kind of honest, messy hushed tones that compels you to listen, fully.

I wrote that love is the most important madness, and despite the heartbreak of my past, I really do believe that. Sometimes, someone waltzes into your life, and you know it won’t be the same again. You can, of course, try to fight it. But I find that’s really a futile endeavor and tend to dive in, instead. As much as I can, as much as someone might let me. Because it takes two to tango, etc., and you can knock on a door, but someone has to answer it.

Where was I? Right. The kind of love that knocks you sideways. The kind of love that, looking back like Beagle does, turns into warmth—you can feel the precisely perfect damnation in his words. I don’t mean damnation in either a religious or negative way. Just simply irrevocable knowing, the kind you feel in your bones. If you’ve been in that kind of love, you know what I mean. And for me, it’s really either that or nothing. So, if I’ve ever given a man the time of day, it’s not an accident. I can’t bothered to waste my own time.

Beagle wrote this: In my own defense, I do have to state that when I really, really know something, I know it finally and thoroughly for good forever. Which can create its own problems, but never bloody mind. And that’s me, too. It can be, as I’ve noted elsewhere, hell waiting for other people to catch up. But there are times I just know things with zero logic to it, and I’ve learned to trust that instinct with my life, to always see where it leads.

I read Beagle’s essay several times. The first time, it knocked the wind out of me. It made me go oh, in that quiet resonate way that sometimes happens. Even though the story looked nothing like my life, there were details that felt like a mirror.

The second time, I searched for details I’d missed the first time, because there’s something deeply inviting about that kind of love. Who doesn’t want to be written about with that enduring, thoroughly solid warmth? (Deep sigh.)

The third time I read it, I remembered the few times I’ve written love poems—how I still hadn’t shared the last one with the person I’d written it for. And maybe I…should.

Would it matter? Would it change anything? There’s always only one way to find out.

There’s always a risk, opening yourself to love. And for all the hits I’ve taken over the years, I still believe it’s worth it. Every scar did not tether me. Every heartbreak did not end me. Every closed book was not the end of my story. I am not afraid of love, and I’d run full tilt into it if given the chance. Damn the rest. My choices are always my own, and I never make them halfway.

Because, as Beagle’s essay reminded me, our days an uncertain. But who we spend time with matters. Who we let in. The memories we make. The things we share. It all sustains us. Looking back, I never want to wonder what if. What if I was braver? What if I got on the train? What if I asked the question?

Life should not be paved with unanswered questions, even now when the world feels so damn messy and terrible. Life should be chance meetings that turn into miracles. I’ve never been a religious person, but  I’ll drink that wine every time.

Maybe someday someone will write about me the way that Beagle writes about Nell. Maybe someday, a poem will appear in my life, about me. I don’t think I ever realized I wanted that until this week, but I do.

I pulled the Ace of Cups again today. Maybe someday, I’ll tell you what that means.

XOXO