Love letter # 450

You could well be the most beautiful person I have ever met. You might be the one they call ‘the one’. This is what drives me to want to know. To try. To fight for you.

I take on board the possibility of abject failure – call it rejection if you like – but I would rather gamble on that than take the chance I might wake up in five years and wonder if I let you go too soon.

So here I am – saying it.

It’s your turn now – and I’m all ears and butterflies.

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Love letter # 294

I am so glad you came into my life; even though it is apparent that you will not ultimately choose me. (Maybe I am wrong about this. Either way, that choice is yours to make – and I leave it to you.)

For my part, how good it is to be flooded with sweetness, to be transformed by a smile, uplifted by a small sign of extra care. In the end – after sex and novelty have had their sway – it is intimacy and recognition that will carry us through the night. Even as you withhold your kiss and bow to the fears that beset you I see how you have reached out – how your fingers have prised me out of the weave.

Though it may go no further, I thank you for the reminder – for allowing me the very idea that someone out there sees me. That somebody truly beautiful knows.

I have floated on this for weeks. It has washed me clean. Today I am lighter by the precise measure of your likeness. I wish you would fly with me – but even if you won’t I am grateful for the joyous elevation you have lately made possible.

Your airborne friend,

Love letter # 537

Yes, it’s you. You I want to love in a crazy, unrestrained way. With all the intense and euphoric madness I possess. With this river inside me. In the ecstasy of belting rain. Like a kind of bursting. As though I were a loud and wild song. As if I was an everlasting candle burning sweet. Like there was nothing else. Just the glorious, obliterating outpour – and you and I – shining like some kinda star.

Love letter # 432

Forgive me if I’m being blunt here – but what is so terrifying about love? Why have so many people closed themselves down? Why have you?

Of course you can get hurt. Yes, it can bleed. No, the Hollywood fairy tale doesn’t come true for most of us. Yet what would you rather? A half dead life?

Sure, pile up your excuses. Heard ‘em all before. Almost always, can’t is a veil for won’t – and sensible is a proxy for fear. As for the input of others – the naysayers, the blackmailers, the ones who think you’re their object – why does it have any power?

I understand caution. I know the risks. But y’know what – the risk isn’t all on one side. Saying no is also a gamble. Will you bet on the loneliness of the closed off heart? Will you take the risk of regret, of wondering whether…?

We’re all gonna die, my love – and none of this shit we take for success or wisdom or honour will end up meaning anything.

Only the night I spent in your arms. Only the time we truly saw each other. Just that gorgeous thread between us.

This I would treasure with all of my blood and every beat of my vulnerable heart – with the very core of me – for the clock that counts my days is the meter of my love. And I would risk its tender strings to know you. To be included in your light.

But I will not pledge it for the greyness of safety.

Love letter # 314

Of course there are no rules to all this. Barely even protocol. Just feeling the way I do. Risking it all to tell you. Accepting that even the most heartfelt confession is no guarantee.

So too – no need for apology; and certainly not guilt. The ache I carry today is simply the price of hoping. Of being dazzled by the light. For even though there is a bridge between us, no one said we had to cross it.

And now – a river sparkles in the bright day sun – you and I on either side. Toes wet. Looking across a stream made of promise. Of tears unshed. Baptism forestalled. Two swimmers – fully clothed – still able to smile at one another. Knowing where we stand.

 

Love letter # 307

From where I sit I cannot genuinely know what you want – but this I can say: if it’s warmth and closeness, if it’s a deep and lasting connection, shelter in a storm, fire in the night, the idea that someone has your back, that somebody will put you before others, perhaps even before themselves, that in all the world it will be you … this is where I stand. If you are ready to risk the folly of such glorious promising, I will swear it here and now. You need only breathe it and I shall sing it loud – and to that heady music we can dance at last. You and me. Us. Does that sound good?