Dear Youme

Dear Youme:

It always surprises me when I sit down to write that I have a difficult time getting started. I know that the thoughts accumulated throughout the days, weeks, and years would be better understood if articulated on paper, however that point of no return, the moment when the feelings pour themselves out in to words can be difficult to find if not regularly practiced. When I asked you for a writing prompt, I half expected you to look in a book of writing strategies. I didn't expect you to say "Write about our relationship and shared goals."

I beg your pardon as I try my best to tease out the origins of my feeling, hopes, desires, and dreams. I didn't know until just now that I could write so much on this topic. 

"Let's get married"

"Let's grow old together."

These are some of the things I remember saying as we allowed ourselves to enjoy the bliss that accompanied the beginnings of a beautiful relationship.

For as long as I can remember, I knew that I would some day get married. I knew I wanted a family with at least two children. Where we would live seemed to be unimportant somehow. My idealist self thoughts that jobs would be plentiful wherever we decided to settle down. California seemed like an ideal location because my past experiences with the state have been positive. I continue to feel that the people share an overall optimistic view on life. I know that this is an overgeneralization, but i'm ok with this.

When we are old and frail, I want us to look back and be able to say: "We did well, our child/children made positive contributions to the world."

I didn't grow up knowing what kind of woman would be "the right one".

Was this because I didn't have a positive experience with a mother figure? Whether this is all psychological mumbo jumbo is difficult to say.

Did I make the right decision?

This is a question I thought I would never ask myself once our wedding vows had been proclaimed in the presence of our friends and family. Does this make me a bad husband? A sorry excuse of a father?

I'm sorry. I know that I made a mistake. I know that my loyalty to you and Song faltered at a time when you needed me most.

The arrival of a childhood friend generated feelings that I never could foresee. The feelings for Tieu are a mixed-up sense of fantasy, idealism, and a desire for a past that never was. Her return to my life brought to the forefront of my thoughts my feelings of loneliness, of a family that never existed, and a future of questions that I knew didn't have any good answers.

Perhaps it was easier for me to stray slightly due to my misunderstanding of our goals. I felt at that time that I was compromising my heart, my soul, and pacing our relationship on needless trial just to explore a selfish need: to know through verbal verification that my memories of Vietnam weren't entirely self-generated dreams and nightmares.

With each passing day, I know that we made the right decision. Every time I hold Song, I am reminded of our shared goals: to love and cherish each other, to raise a happy family, and to explore our futures together. This is the first and foremost desire I feel helps me to keep the "what if's" at bay. My feelings of appreciation are coupled with anxiety when you express your willingness to explore Vietnam and our past as a family. Perhaps it's selfishness, a desire to keep the pain to myself that keeps me from responding with an enthusiastic, yes… I'm not sure what the true reason is, but I would like for us to work together to find a possible answer, if one exists. Thank you for reading my thoughts and helping me to parse any meaning out of them. I am continually grateful and appreciative of your patience and understanding. Thank you for helping me to help myself. In the next weeks, months, and years, I hope my articulation of my feelings will become more comprehendible.

Thank you for you. Thank you for Song. Thank you for agreeing to be nothing other than yourself.

I love you.

 

Love always:

Hai