Love letter # 380

Have you ever felt that someone really gets you? Sees you, hears you? I used to answer no to all these questions. Then I met you.

It wasn’t just that our eyes met and liked what they saw. Yes, it was a kind of chemistry but it went much deeper than the obvious allure.

I think I saw the person inside you peering out at me from behind the bars – as I looked out at you.

Is it truly a hopeless folly to believe that we can reach out across the space in between? Set off a spark in the thin air? Help find the keys for one another?

Though we live in a world that dreams chiefly of itself are we not also free to believe in the idea that with our loving we may change the world? That we may paint the night with stars.

Then again, perhaps all I know is that my vision was filled with you last night and that this morning I am about to send you this.

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Love letter # 252

Quite possibly, you are too beautiful for me. As I stand on the brink of your kiss, I feel like someone about to drown. The sheer power of you is frightening and I wonder if the hunger that will be unleashed in me will ever be sated. Will I forever be left wanting and wondering? Chasing something you cannot give?

So yes, this is why I have dwelt on the edge of your nearness. I am not sure that I will survive my desire with even the merest shred of self respect or perspective. We both know that touch explodes reserve. That once naked, there is no hiding. No retreat into the safety of not knowing.

It is not so much that you will see the scars on me but that the force of my loving you will ruin the very flower it seeks to treasure. I will want you more madly than is tolerable – because in your splendid, sparkling eyes I see all the intoxicating glory of promise. For you are like the birth of stars – the beginning of time and possibility. A spark that might just make a life.

And then what?

Love letter # 313

When from the glittering sea you first emerged, body bedizened in salt and sand, I thought that you were the angel of summer. Of all my summers. And wrapped up in your fine form every dream I ever had. All the promises ever made by every lover who passed me by. For yours was the beauty I would have conjured. Yours the eyes that longed for me. The hand that led me into the softness of the night. I have already kissed you in my imagining – your lips like heaven. And you have sighed the song of my surrender; so that now I will follow you out into the waves and we will have the ocean to ourselves.

Love letter # 361

Someone asked me why it was that you and I split up. You two seemed perfect, they said. The irony here is that it was a failure to be perfect that caused us to separate.

In the beginning, we were one another’s heroes. In the end we were just ordinary. Not awful or abusive – just flawed and far less shiny. Perhaps it’s even fair to say that a touch of boredom set in. And there’s nothing sexy or wonderful about that.

I used to castigate myself for all my failings. Now I only regret not forgiving you for yours. I loved when you were fabulous but I felt let down when you weren’t. I wonder sometimes if it was a fairy tale I married; rather than a woman. I know that I played the prince for you – kept the act up for as long as I could. Did you play the dream girl for me, my love?

And for a time, of course, it was magical. Sometimes I am incredibly nostalgic for that. Other times I feel that it set the bar too high – never gave us a chance at being human.

I can say all this now because the strength we did have together I have never even come close to finding again. Partly, this could be the effect of aging. I can accept that. Almost smile at it. But what if that’s not the reason? What if we split up because we were too greedy? Too stupid to see that the broken down model we had was better than anything else on the market.

Most days I try not to give this thought oxygen – but tonight, as I contemplate the quiet cold of the empty bed and the knowledge that I will wake up alone – I am choking on it.