Love letter # 384
Realising how uncool it is these days to admit to something as old school as love, I do so anyway. How else to explain the way I feel about you? What other word to apply to the warmth that courses through me at your proximity?
I do not propose to sacrifice my self-respect or put on hold my life for you – but I do feel ready to make you first amongst my equals and to consider how the actions I take may impact upon you. I will take you into my deepest confidence and most sacred trust – give you all that is healthy to give to another. No door shall be automatically closed to you. No games played at your expense.
If you will only allow this river to flow, it will surely flood the plains – and there the most beautiful things shall grow.
You do not need to call it love – but I most certainly will – and if you shall receive it, I will offer it up for as long as I can foresee. I cannot say it plainer than this.
Love letter # 378
I wonder – do I stand a chance with you? Is there a way for me to get through your many layers of defence? Or are your reasons really excuses – fear in the guise of determination?
We both know that when someone says they’re not looking for a relationship what they really mean is that the right person hasn’t come along yet. This is what frightens me. That for all our closeness and the ease we have with one another, I am doomed to bounce off the steel of your singledom. Until someone else gets through.
So be honest. No sugar coats. None of this ‘I really respect you’ nonsense. Tell me if there is a hope I can reasonably cling to – if there is a chink in your armour with my name on it. But more so – let me know if there isn’t – because I have love to give; and I will not give it to a wall.
Love letter # 238
You probably already know but I’ll say it anyway. When we’re together I am alive with both desire and uncertainty. Your closeness, your flirtatious eyes, they ignite me – and even though I know you are taken, I burn just the same.
I would like to reach across the space between us – complete the connection. I want to take you outside and kiss you. Feel your warmth next to mine. Know the taste of you.
Most likely this will never happen – but that won’t stop me dreaming it. Won’t prevent me looking at you and imagining.
So now you can take this secret with you wherever you go – call it to mind when and if you feel the need. I offer you this admiration as a gift. An innocent token of something far more fiery. You may do with it as you wish. As I am doing now in my fantasy of you and I.
Love letter # 257
Yesterday, when you were standing next to me, it was obvious. Today, more so. The thing we had. The way we resonated. So deep and wordless. Yet still we walked away.
We remember well the saw toothed grit that made the gears grind – the noise that drowned the song. The salt in wounds that made those tiny cuts scream. The things undone that built into a storm. All the reasons in the world to cut a cord. Slam a door.
So why, after all these years, did it take no more than a moment to feel again the motion of the quiet and beautiful stream that once flowed so magically through our blood? Why, in the wake a thousand squabbles, is our connection still so alive?
I cannot know the answer to this – maybe I dare not know – but what was obvious to me was how I felt in your presence and how I fell to pieces when you sailed away. How I knew for sure what I had missed. What it was I gave away when I turned my back on you.
You have never met me – most likely you never will – but I fear I may have witnessed a sliver of your life that is very telling.
While your attention was rightly focused elsewhere I sat watching you and your girl. She was so bright and effervescent, so sure of her attractiveness, so at home in the gaze of other men. You sat helpless. Torn. Like something in her back pocket. Your eyes screamed out both your love and your impotence.
Meanwhile, she played. Adored by eyes, seduced in fantasies. Yes, even mine. And all the while you ached in lip bitten politeness she asserted her advantage – and let you buy her drinks.
Although you obviously and deeply care for her, she is out shopping for bigger, stronger, richer. Her precise little moves, her lures, they are not unconscious. She knows what she’s doing – and if you’re honest, so do you. She will lie to you if you challenge her, maybe even cry if you pluck up the courage to stop being her dog – but I urge you to leave her to her games. Because that is what they are.
You have love and loyalty to offer. She has only tits and arse – and time will bring down its merciless verdict on them soon enough. The pretty end up nostalgic and bitter. Only the lovers have flowers forever.
So take your splendid heart, my friend, and find a companion for it in someone as tender and kind as you. For only she who sees your beauty will be worthy of you; and she will make damn sure that you do not finish last.