Love letter # 410
I am writing to thank you; but also to apologise. The latter is because I am breaking my silence, the former is because you give me the only reason to do so.
The bare truth of the matter is that our brief exchanges – your smiles, those hugs you give me, the touches – remind me. They are, shall we shall say, the solitary snowflakes of a barren season. They represent the only thing vaguely approaching the kind of attention that I have almost forgotten. For even if the effect melts away and is unintended, it is a beautiful dusting while it lasts.
But I am no fool, no mad hormonal fantasist. I know you are simply being friendly – but if sometimes I seem to lapse into a foggy bumbling clumsiness it is because when you are next to me my composure turns to slush. I think perhaps it is simply the fact of being seen, being even briefly selected, (so unusual of late), that breaches the wall of compromise I have so carefully constructed.
And really, here it is – the ‘why’ of this letter. It’s a plea to you and a warning for me. Not so close. Not unless.
But then again, maybe even that would be too much.
Our love took place in silence, beneath the veil of uttering, in rooms unfurnished. It did not feed on the touch of skin, nor brightly burn with the fire of clutching mouths. It did not bloom as flowers, it did not wear the ring. There was no need of song, for we danced between the notes. Even sight did not behold, as neither light nor shadow fell; and our hands were left with nothing to hold; formless was our love. Known only by surrender. For our love was born in spaces, empty of everything but itself.
Love letter # 442
For you I need look no further. You are in my blood, electricity in my fibres. You are made of the same sinew, and in the subsoil of my being you have grown to fruition.
When I am dancing, you are the animator. When I sing of love it is with your voice. When it matters, it is because of you.
If I once dreamt of you, now you are awakened inside me. Now I search no more; for you are evoked by simple thought. The world does not contain you, except that it contains me. You are no longer the other but instead are me, as I am also you. Two but one; one but two.
Like sand, lime, soda and fire – we have become glass, from which this mirror is carved. Dirt and flame, earth and star – blood and love. And thence, upon seeing…seen.
Love letter # 358
I love you because, in regarding you, I behold the possibility of myself and, more than ever, find the prospect wonderful. Thank you.
Love letter # 691
I was the starving till you grew. I was the drifter, then you called. But I had an anchor, you had wings, hoping to light a path from here. Now we’re on a journey home, my love – to the sea where the islands meet and sleep. And there we will find we have everything … because nothing at all is everything.
Back in 2016 freeloveletters.net collaborated with Taiwan born, Melbourne based graphic designer Eric Huang – see: ericme.com – to create a coffee table book called ‘Modern Love: love letters from the 21st century’ using text from this site and images from both Paul Ransom and Eric. Two years on (and sans publisher) we’ve finally decided to share a few more of our page layouts.
PS: If you’re a publisher, feel free to offer us a deal. (No, really, do.)
Love letter # 325
If you touch me I’m sure I will promptly dissolve. If you take me in your arms I may just break. That’s how it feels – almost asphyxiating in your presence, wondering where to look, what to do, how not to melt into a formless mess. You see this kind of thing in films, hear it in songs, but you never expect it to actually happen. At least not on this cynical planet. Not at my age. But then, who would have guessed that I’d meet someone like you.