FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Sad

  • Love letter # 1000

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Let’s call this the end, shall we? Pack up our dreaming and go. Leave the scatterlings behind. All the odds and ends of our years. The ashes of our love and the exhausted batteries of our resistance to time’s inevitable and heedless smear of dust and forgetting. Once we had a thing – a pact…

  • Love letter # 306

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Back when I was even dumber, I pictured the perfect girl. In later years – sensibly – I gave up on her. Until you came along. The walking, breathing form of everything I ever privately dreamed. Beauty in the guise of a woman. Perhaps this is why I’m finding it so damn hard to let…

  • Love letter # 392

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    You will see me playing it cool, doing the right thing – being adult about it. You will notice that I leave early. That I no longer call. That I smile and nod on cue. I understand the act that is required of me. I even agree with the reasons for it. Even if arguing…

  • Love letter # 363

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    When the rushing and the distractions are over for the day, and I have no resistance to the thought of you, I am reminded. Of the beautiful fragility you evoke. Of that thing in my heart which needs no explaining, and cannot be explained away. I can hold you at bay in the daylight hours…

  • Love letter # 481

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    If once I hoped that time and distance would quell the fire – now I understand how spectacularly those gambits have failed. Seeing you again. So near. So fucking far away. What I had felt to be true was still true. Beating steady. Counting time. Measuring the distance between dread and desire. For you sit…

  • Love letter # 398

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    When I remove the filters and look at things clearly, one question repeats itself in my head and in my heart. When I take stock of your actions – and contrast them with your words – I am left asking: how exactly am I meant to interpret this? When you say that no one else…

  • Love letter # 279

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Each time I convince myself not to bother – reason one, excuse two, etcetera – you turn me round. Whenever I find myself walking away, you argue me back. Not with pleas or promises but with the irresistible power of your beauty. For though I see and feel all the obstacles stacked up against this,…

  • Love letter # 314

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    There are no rules here. 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…

  • Love letter # 462

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I had a dream – the one of you that didn’t quite turn out. It was made from the sadness in your eyes, and from the detailed loveliness of your bony fingers. Carved from the litheness of your form. Painted in the dusty alabaster of your skin. Made from the stories I wished were true.…

  • Love letter # 330

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    When I walked beside you yesterday it was as though the pelting rain were washing me clean. Drowning me in a beautiful monsoon. Turning the parched terrain into a sea of flowers. Yes, it may well have been a grand delusion – but what spellbinding hallucination it was. For a few moments, I was light…