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Echo [userpic]
Happy Birthday Gorgeous
by Echo (stir_of_echoes)
at January 14th, 2007 (08:57 am)
thankful

the mood: thankful

Uhm. I was going to write you a fic but you know what? I’ve done that already, several times. So I figured I’d make you a vid but I’ve done that too and besides, I’ve trawled through most of my music drive, which by the way is huge and I couldn’t find a song that said everything I wanted to say.

And I wanted to do something special, something different, and something I haven’t done before. And the only thing I’ve never really done is tell you how much you mean to me as a friend, as a person, as a writer. Okay, so I have but mostly doing that consists of *hugs you* and *hearts* and a whole lot of OMg! and YaY!

It would be so easy for me to sit here and write a fic and let the characters express what I can’t. It would be easy to make a vid and have the characters show you how much I love you. Because you know me better than anyone, and you know that’s what I do. Let other people do the talking while I run away from anything remotely resembling emotional.

I’m not good with honest emotion, not when it comes from me and expresses what I feel. I’m not good when it comes to telling people how much they mean to me. I’m not the best person in the world at expressing anything honest and real and mine.

But it’s you, you know? And maybe it’s long overdue.

So I’m going to do that instead or at least I’m going to try.



Disclaimer: I’m going to admit, right off the bat that this is one of the hardest things I have ever done. So if I sucks with the explain thing and you want a vid or something... *g*

Honestly, I can’t even remember when I first met you online because I can’t remember a time before you. You’ve always seemed to be there even though, I know you haven’t.

But it seems that way because from the first instant we crossed each other’s virtual path something clicked. I don’t know what it was, I can’t explain it but it was there and it was real and it was special.

I don’t want to even try to explain it because it’s just something that *is*, something that needs no explanation.

Heh! You can probably tell I don’t do this very often, express how I feel, and that’s because, I don’t. But it’s more than that.

I don’t connect with people very often. Hardly at all. And when I do it’s often fleeting and very much on the surface.

I don’t tell people who I am, I don’t share and when I share? I share facts and nothing even remotely resembling what lay beneath those facts. I don’t give anything of myself and take away even less.

I can’t do that with you and even if I tried, I doubt I could achieve it because from the instant we met, you were there, almost as if you were standing right in front of me and daring me to run. And honestly, I couldn’t run even if I wanted to.

There’s something unique about you, something special and it’s something that managed to elude every single one of my defences without even trying. I’m not sure I have a single defence when it comes to you because they all packed up and took a permanent vacation the day you arrived.

And I’m good with that, which is kind of strange considering it’s the one single thing to guarantee a flight response.

But I’ve shared more with you than most people I know. I’ve told you things I’ve never shared with a living soul, I’ve told you who I am, and why I am and who I want to be. And I’ve told you how I feel about my life, my experiences, my family and friends. I’ve shared so much with you that I sometimes feel like an open book where you’re concerned.

And I’m still here.

But more importantly, you’re still here.

And you know what? That says so much more about you then it ever could about me.

You’ve listened when I didn’t want to talk but couldn’t not.

You’ve been there when I needed to talk but couldn’t.

You’ve always been there.

And I’ve shared so much laughter with you that any tears became just a drop in the ocean.

We’ve stayed up talking about thoughts and feelings until the sun came up. We’ve talked about our lives, our loves, our kids. We’ve shared our hopes our fears, what makes us cry, what makes us laugh and admitted to all the things which sometimes piss us off, and the things which turn us on.

We’ve swapped stories, real stories, stories about us, about life and love. The good times and the bad, the things we’ve achieved, the times we’ve lost and the times when once, just once we walked away the victor.

We’ve talked about David naked, David naked with Chris, Lindsey naked with Angel, the hotness of them. We’ve talked about James and Spike and how without Angel by his side he’d be a mess. We’ve talked about Angel and how without Spike in his bed, he’d be alone and horny and missing a vital part of who he is.

We’ve talked about porn, and whether or not we were gay men in a former life, and totally understood, and got that.

We haven’t talked at all. There have been times when weeks have gone by, sometimes longer without sharing a single word. But you were still there, in my thoughts, everyday.

Because there’s not a single day that goes by when you’re not in my thoughts.

And when we cross each other’s path again, it’s like picking up on a conversation that ended only seconds ago, almost like there’s a rhythm, a flow to what we share, and it’s a rhythm that is felt rather than heard, a rhythm which carries on throughout everything, and it never loses a beat.

And we’ve shared fictional stories, batted ideas back and forth. Talked about characters and why we love them, how we love them. And then we’ve wandered off and wrote *that* story.

And I’ve watched you grow as a writer, I’ve watched your creative pieces become stronger, I’ve watched your characters become passionate, larger than life people who never fail to work their way into my heart.

Because they have so much about them. They feel, aren’t afraid to feel, they’re passionate about their life and the people in their lives, and they show the reader that. They show the reader who they are, what makes them hurt, what brings a smile, they show the reader what they are, what makes them real. They show the reader the people in their lives through their eyes, their emotions.

They say, “This is mine; it’s something I’d fight for. It’s something I’d die for because it’s mine, they’re mine, this person and everything they make me feel.”

And when they’re done fighting, done holding on to what is theirs, they’ll show you why, give you, as the reader their passion. They’ll let you in to witness that passion, see them naked and vulnerable yet strong because they’re sharing their passion with the person they’d lay down their life for. The one person they can’t go a day without touching, tasting as they explore every inch of the person beneath them, above the, beside them in life as well as in love.

But you know what?

It’s not them.

It’s you.

You do that, you write that, you give them everything they are because it’s everything you are.

You are the most, open, honest, passionate person I have ever had the good fortune to call a friend.

You have so many qualities, so much goodness and strength that you shine. But it’s your passion for life, for love and those you love whether they be real or fictional that truly has you standing head and shoulders above the crowd.

And that’s why I love. Because you’re not afraid to love. You’re not afraid to fight for what is yours, yours not afraid to stand tall and say,

“This is mine; it’s something I’d fight for. It’s something I’d die for because it’s mine, they’re mine, this person and everything they make me feel.”

It’s your passion for everything you do, everything you create, everything you are.

I wish I could put it into words but I can’t.

But I know someone who can, so to quote a much loved friend of ours:

"Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted... unbidden...
it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us... passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have?

Passion is the source of our finest moments.

The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... and the ecstasy of grief.

It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion
maybe we'd know some kind of peace... but we would be hollow...

Empty rooms shuttered and dank. Without passion we'd be truly dead."


Baby, there are so many empty rooms out there, all of them hollow, shuttered and dank just waiting for someone like you to come along and breathe life into them because that is your gift.

It’s why you shine.

It’s why I love you so damn much.

Happy birthday you and all that you are because what you are is truly amazing.

Love always,

Me xx

Comments

Posted by: Snow (sweptawaybayou)
Posted at: January 14th, 2007 11:29 pm (UTC)
Snow

You.

I've never felt alone since I met you. Even thousands of miles apart, I feel your friendship. I feel your heart.

If we know each other more than we've given to others, it's because we've known each other forever.

It makes me happy when I have the chance to talk to you, but even more, it makes me happy just to know that you are there. Out there. And when I put my fingers to the window, thinking of you, somewhere I know that you are doing the same. Thinking of me.

Thank you, Jules.

For the gift of you.

xoxo

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