Love letter # 272

Life, it seems, is a series of risks. We wager everything on the delusion of success or on the fallacy of profit. Many of us place our bets on failure and take the chance that trying to avoid pain will make us happy. Or at the very least, minimise the odds of heartbreak.

But I will take the risk of possible tears for you. I will gamble that by loving you I might one day crumble. For I would rather fail at beauty and connection – at tenderness and affection – than succeed at coldness and fear.

If my heart is to bleed, let it shed its blood for the sweetness of your kiss – for the heady pleasures of resting in your arms and waking by your side. Let the tears I cry be for the memory of our love – not for the emptiness of wondering what might have been if only I had summoned the courage to try.

I would sooner die for you than for some misplaced and pointless sense of pride. Much better to be wrong about the touch of another, than absolutely right about the awful hand of isolation.

And so tonight I put it all on the line – so that you and I may have the chance to taste the joy that we both seek.

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Love letter # 221

I was so afraid to ask you that I had to write this letter instead. The words I tried to form got stuck. Disassembled at the sight of you. Maybe I thought I was too old for this kind of adolescent nervousness. How wrong your beauty proved that to be.

And so here it is – that which I could not find the courage or the clarity to say in person. The thing that has been burning me. Consuming me. Keeping me awake.

I can offer no logical explanation, no well thought out series of points – just the simple confession of one who is alive with loving. Who shivers at the very thought of you. Who wishes to dedicate himself to you. Who has nothing else to say but will you please be mine.

Love letter # 275

It seems we all get stuck on semantics. Boyfriend/girlfriend, partner/lover or ‘just’ friends. Yet when I think about what it is that I want to share with you, it’s definitely not a label. In a way, the so-called relationship I wish I had with you revolves around some very simple understandings.

I would have it that we commit to seeing one another regularly, to being emotionally and physically intimate and to being faithful. In turn, I pledge to be honest and available – to love you first of all and to let the whole world know this. Be my number one if you wish – and in return I will gladly be yours.

You can call it what you will – but I shall name it love and give it to you in absolute abundance.

Love letter # 499

There is a certain song – I’m sure you know the one. Whenever it plays I am in your arms. Suddenly, the distractions of my busy day and the vanity of my ambitions are dissolved and I am reconnected with what truly matters. My unbounded, undying and all-encompassing love for you. The sheer beauty of it makes me feel. Strips away my hubristic thinking and arrogant resistance. Returns me to the core.

Whenever I hear it I love you like forever. I cherish you as I do life itself. And I yearn to be next to you. If only I could play, I swear this song would be my troth to you. But I am a poor fool instead – making do with the clumsy clunk of words.

Yet even as the song ends – my love remains – so much more than an echo. So much more than anything else.

Love letter # 382

The days are fine. It’s the evenings that do it. Somehow make the years intolerable. As though time itself had ground us down. We used to seem like angels – now we seem like dust.

And so I wonder – are we held together by what we used to be? By the lingering fantasy of you and me? Those two wonderful creatures that defied the world with their improbable love and set out to make a lifetime theirs.

When did we stop being them? When did the distance nestle its way between us? Perhaps it was when we stopped looking.

Yet tonight I am most definitely looking. Peering out across the falling darkness to try and see the light still shining in your eyes. To reach out to one I fell in love with. To say once more to that beautiful soul … I love you, I love you, I love you.

Love letter # 232

Loving you has been really good for my weight – because whenever I see you I am sick with nerves and simply cannot eat. Your impact is so utterly physical; and all of my fine assertions and splendid determinations are simply melted on sight. It’s as though I have no defence whatever. Something about you shoots me right through.

Partly I’d like to run away – to sidestep this debilitating desire – but then when you are in my presence I am drawn to you so powerfully that all I can think of is your beauty and how much I would like to wrap you in my arms.

Tonight I will sleep alone once more but yearn for you to be next to me. In the morning I will crash into wakefulness with your name as my very first thought.

This, I realise, is the most primitive longing – the hard wired, hormonal hunger for touch and that mad delusion we are wont to call love. And much as I want you, I also want to be free of this stomach churning, nerve shredding, sanity destroying want.

Perhaps your kiss would dissolve it all – or maybe your absence. I cannot tell. I have surrendered that capacity to the overwhelming fever that strikes me when you smile.

I am hoping that perhaps you will help me steer a path out of this – put me out of my misery or dive into this heady sea and be with me.

Is this the craziest letter you have ever received? I hope so – because then you will know that whatever else happens in your world there is a fool nearby with a bright light burning just for you.