chronicle #5



(Swinging) I am trying to quieten my love for you 






Dear Matt,



In a true and cowardly form I've spent the last year making work about how much I'm in love with you, and this piece in particular, is my love letter to you.


Daggy that I'm hiding this love letter in an artwork, within an exhibition, but it's all the bravery I can muster. I sit in my studio here, and think about if you were to walk in right now. I would be so happy - so happy. I get tears in my eyes just thinking about it.


You are the agony and the ecstasy for me. When I'm with you, I am the happiest I've been. And then you go back to your home, life, relationship and I - each and every time - am for weeks afterwards, sad. That sort of bone-crushing sadness that makes you question the why of a lot of things.


I have tried forgetting you, ignoring you, using other men to sedate my lust for you. It's leads me always back to this point - which is that it's you that I want, and love.


I'm no wordsmith (clearly) but I hope my artwork speaks more to you than this letter. It kills me that I will never have you. I am broken and am at lost at what to do.


I actually want to give you this piece, but then the idea of you and her looking at it over the course of your lives with your children, going "that's the woman that was madly in love with your father...", unbearable, unbearable. This year has been unbearable. I don't know if meeting you was the worst or the best thing that's happened to me. I don't know why you're not with me (I do) but I can't understand it. I will forever be searching for your face in a crowd.


I love you, I love you, I love you. Please, please love me back. Please.

x deb 







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