Hello Dear,
I hope this letter finds you well and enjoying the spring weather—I know that the blossoms must be out on the cherry tree on the front lawn. And I hope your girls on the lacrosse team are doing well, if you’re still doing that.
I want to let you know that I got my motorcycle out of storage at the end of March and I’ve been trying to get my skills back slowly but surely, so that I can ride longer and longer distances. But every time I get on it, I think of you, and the good times we had together and will hopefully have in the days soon to come.
I wanted to send you this letter for a couple of reasons. The first one is that, as you know, I recently submitted a filing in New York State Court regarding the dissolution of our marriage. And I never wanted to write down or share with anyone, much less the state of New York, the stories that are contained in that filing. I didn’t want to do that because, though I feel that the things listed in that document happened, they don’t really give a full picture of our relationship and our marriage and our love and the beautiful elements of the time that we had together, or the reasons that we had to separate and chart a new course for our lives—both independently and together. It’s just one extremely narrow sliver.
Now that I have had the benefit of a substantial period of time since 2007 and 2008, my take on things is that the institution of marriage was a spaceship that served us very well for a long time, if I can be loose with my metaphors. But as life and the environment around us changed, and as I changed, that spaceship didn’t function as well. I don’t think it served either of us as well. At least, I can say that it ceased being a good method of travel through this life and through the universe for me. And I needed a new spaceship to travel on.
It doesn’t make the people in the spaceship—you, me, or Kaisha—bad. I’m convinced, and I know this because you taught me this through my relationship with my parents and my family, that I love you and that I will always love you. And I have a pretty strong suspicion that you love me. I know this because I experienced your love and I experience it now. I send my love out to you through the universe, and I have a feeling you experience it, as well. I’m very hopeful that we can find a new spaceship to be able to connect and share our love in a new way, an exciting way, and a way that works for both of us. And I have a good feeling that it will happen, because I know better than anyone—and I know you know that I know better than anyone—how devastating and painful and toxic a prolonged separation is from people who love you and are attached to you through love and having kids or parents. I don’t think we were meant to be apart, in a physical sense. And I’m going to continue to work and hope and dream that we can find a new way to continue to be a family and to love each other outside the institution of marriage. I’m going to continue to work in that direction and I’ve instructed my attorney and all those around me to continue to work in that direction. I will keep on doing that until the day I pass from this earth.
So I wanted you to know that. And, as I said, I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through in the last year-and-a-half. I can’t imagine what Kaisha has gone through, but it has been very difficult. But I wouldn’t be trying to build a new spaceship if I didn’t think it was better for me, and ultimately for all of us, and I will continue to work in that direction. The difficult part of that is to work on deconstructing the old spaceship. We’ve been intertwined in the institution of marriage, and also in love and our family affairs and our financial affairs—in all affairs for the last twenty years. And untangling those and re-sorting them and putting them back together again in a new way is a very difficult process. I understand that. I know it’s difficult for me, and I can understand that it’s probably difficult for you and Kaisha. And I’m committed to working towards it in a constructive way.
