My dear sweet Architectural Idealism,
First of all, I’m not mad at you. Why does everyone keep saying that?
If I seem distant, or angry, I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just stressed out. The last few years have been hard for me. I mean, we were together for so long and you were my first love. We built a life together. We built a home together. And after many years together, I think I began to define my character in terms of our relationship. I fell into a comfortable pattern with you, sheltered by your sense of order. I mean, I seriously felt like you…somehow…
you completed me.
I couldn’t imagine my life without you. I was enamored with your perfection…
I was just an Architect, standing in front of an ideology, asking it to love me…
Well, I guess I still am, really,
But… things change, I guess. We’ve started to grow apart. But, it’s not you. I swear, it’s me. I was just so young when we met. I don’t think I knew anything really. And, you were so pure, and promising, and confident, and full of passion to change the world. I got swept up in the movement and fell head over heels. But… I was so immature. I didn’t really know what I wanted, didn’t know who I’d become, I wasn’t thinking about what I needed, what I wanted, what I should be, what I could be, I was… just star struck.
But, now, I’ve aged. And, it just isn’t the same for me anymore. Don’t get me wrong… you’re amazing. I mean everything you’ve done in Brazil, and all of those museums, and that modular stuff, I mean, you’re great, really… it’s just…
I’ve changed, I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t see the world that way now, that pure, that simple. I’m just too tired of convincing everyone that “we’re” right. It’s exhausting. And maybe, we’re not. Maybe we’re just wasting our energy…maybe… Don’t look at me like that. I don’t mean to hurt you.
I just need some space. I need to find out what I believe in. I can’t just keep standing in your shadow. I need to be on my own for a while.
I need to learn to find my own way for a change.
Anyway, I just needed to tell you that. Sorry.
take care you,
p.s. you get the kids every 3rd Saturday. & you need to pay for their college.
photos from Josep Ma. Rosell’s photostream on Flickr (used under creative commons license)