The last letter to an ex muse.

This is a preview of the multimedia "project" I've been working on for the last year. It is also the last letter written to a muse that I have never met. She helped me learn how to write love songs.

To JLH

My dishonesty shines through. I am experiencing a profound spiritual change in my life and am cleaning all my slates. The last couple songs weren't written for you. Specifically this song, "If" (though I didn't lie about the dream, it wasn't because of you that I remembered it) and "not a mistake". They were written for and because of someone else. Someone I had never expected to meet.

Her name is Megan, and we met during a show we were both working on. She was an actress and I took the photos. From the moment we first met it felt like I had known her before, but I couldn't place where or when and the feeling was so strong that I was overwhelmed. That first week I cut my hand carrying a photo printer around and she gave me a band-aid from a greasy first aid kit and helped me put it on and I fell in love with her.

We had started talking frequently before the show and it seemed like every time we would start one of our chats we'd lose track of time and then spend a frantic few minutes trying to get ready before show start, her in wardrobe and me screwing with my camera. I have never had such an easy time talking with another person and the words would just flow out. We talked about books and writing and our families and our dreams but mostly we talked about writing. We are both writers, so we talked about it a lot more than anything else it seemed and she had written three novels and is trying desperately to get them published, and she will, I have no doubt. She is one of the best writers I have ever seen, let alone known personally and it is only a matter of time.

The woman can write like the wind! I only wish she would open herself up to the other things in life which are important too.

And so, there was a problem. In all things in life an ending must come. The show closed. Now, though I loved our chats together and couldn't stop thinking about her for more than five seconds a stretch and was generally head over heels for this woman, I had had my reservations about starting a romantic relationship with her. For one thing she is twelve years younger than me and I thought that the gap would be too much. I also have a rule against dating coworkers, so when the show close was announced it was a little bittersweet for me, but I saw an opportunity and asked her out.

It came out as awkward as I thought it would. Fumbled pass defined.

But we agreed that if we did "go out" we could "go out" as just friends, which was actually a relief considering my other reservations. And also there was another guy, or so I'd thought. When the show started she was seeing him but it ended before I got hired and I found out about it second hand, which is a good way of saying "oooh gossip". But it bred enough of an insecurity in me that when the last day of show arrived and he showed up and they danced together and he was closer to her own age and he had all of his hair, that I took a step back and pushed her away. I turned my back on her when I should have fought for her.

And then some other stuff happened. We pushed each other further away and now she hates my guts.

So there it is. I find that the songs no longer come to me as they once did, for when I met her, I abandoned you as muse and now I am left without. I am sorry, but this must be the last song. In all things in life an ending must come. This fact would have scared me before, but I have seen some extraordinary things this last week which I cannot easily explain, but that is another story.

It's been a wild ride, Love, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Farewell and Godspeed.