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.