Love letter # 425

All I know is that when you sent me that txt last night my heart rate doubled in an instant. My blood surged. A king tide of warmth washed through me.

I have tried to keep these feelings at bay – aware of how easily they could unseat me, how entirely vulnerable they could render me – but at your every whisper they flare. Not like pain but joy. Promise. The sweet delirium of falling.

Yet I am terrified. It is, of course, the age old fear of breaking. Once more.

So I write you this in order that you understand that I am not unaffected. That this matters. That you are very definitely something. That it’s you I dream of.

For though it is mixed with the accumulated history of my dread, it is without doubt the brightest, most wonderful light to have shone upon me in years.

I know that the next few weeks and months will ultimately tell the tale of this – that desire, proclivity and circumstance will weigh in with their powerful influence – but tonight I shiver. Uncertain. Knowing that with the merest push I will stumble and that, upon standing, I shall find myself in love with you.

Love letter # 523

We’re both adults – we know how these things tend to go. So yes, it’s true, I am holding back.

Of course I wanted to hold you. Kiss you. Love you in every conceivable way. I saw the universe unfolding in the darkness of your eyes. I saw us dancing in five years time. Heard the music in my head. Felt the thunder in my blood. The fear that runs crazy in a heart held together by the knotted wires of will alone.

Forgive me if I am speaking out of turn here – but I think it’s same for you. We are both pilgrims walking the earth in the thrall of redemptive beauty. Broken angels patching up their wings. Bearers of light throwing shadows all around.

I guess I just wanted you to know that it’s okay. We don’t have to do this. I shall not judge you for the trepidations that belong to me. Your hesitation is mine. Our uncertainty unites us.

What If I loved you? What if I burned? What if you smiled in return?