Let Me Just Say This...

Dear Dearest Darling Wendi,

                I write this wholeheartedly to you with a faint smile sprawled on my lips and dreamy fantasies fluttering the depths of my mind. I write this hoping not sound like a hopeless romantic or a crazed stalker girlfriend, though truthfully I’m not far from that reality. I write this just to say, ‘I love you’ as I giggle stupidly while butterflies fill my stomach and my heart begins to beat faster and faster. And it’s those symptoms that let me know that I really am infatuated with you. From when, I cannot recall and why? I couldn’t say.

But why a love letter and not simply speak what I’m thinking?

Simply because waiting half an hour to spare feelings I may or may not hurt with my overall bluntness and naïve obliviousness is half an hour too much. So I’ve written instead, using my articulate vocabulary and poetic-like grace to recapture your heart, that I beg and pray never falls outta love with me.  (That and I can always censor what I type, but not what I say.)

One last thing; I decided every word I erase will be scratched out for you to see what prior thoughts I had before I thought them to be irreverent or too embarrassing.

So now I begin.

Dear Dearest Darling Wendi,

                I bring you back to the night I foolishly tried to end a good thing cast you away from my presence.

My eyes drew saltwater in the cold forlorn space of my bedroom; aside from my roommate’s looming company. While fingers danced and repeated ‘leave me’, ‘end this’ ‘break up with me’ via text messaging, I cried silently hoping for more than obedient replies. I wished for you to chase me. I wished to be someone you were passionate over; like a possession to be owned.

 And while crying I thought out loud so solemnly, having soliloquy after soliloquy, that somewhere in time, you might have stopped loving me and I begun to love you more.

So when you ran, I chased, desperately trying to keep you with me.

And baby, know it hurts But know I like the pain to do the chasing when that’s all you want is to be chased.

But how could I even be mad? I forced so much on you already.
You’ve agreed. You’ve said so yourself.

I’m so needy. I’m so pathetic.  I always classify those two words together; needy and pathetic. Just thought I’d write that down. But the truth is, I need you so much. I really do.

And an even bigger truth is, when I pretend that our future has travel beyond the label of high school sweethearts and life has come down to just the two of us, and we’re together; I see that for the both of us. I cannot image this with anyone else. Aside from that one confused thought that strayed. And it makes me think; ‘you are who my red thread is attached to.’

So of course I was furious that one time, when you said you didn’t want to marry me. And I swallowed down a peculiar lump in my throat and only pouted. Well, until I let my thoughts wonder and they could no longer see that often thought about life with just us. That thought was my happy place. I felt distraught. What’s the point of going out if there is not future goal. No ending?

 And again it came to the alligator tears and tapping on my fingers on the screen of my mobile device. But this time, I consulted a friend.

And her words were, and as brutal as they were: ‘I don’t see you two together anyways. You and she were just a high school phase.’

I dislike when people say those things to me. When they tell me I should leave you, tell me I could be happier, and tell me to give up. They couldn’t possibly know how impressionable and suggestible I am.

They don’t understand the way you brighten my whole entire day when I wake up to a text saying ‘good night’, from when I fell asleep the night before. They don’t understand that I am always thinking of you, always wanting to be near you and around you. They don’t get that I am my happiest when I get to touch you or even how I much long for you.

 I’m such a love sick puppy. I often feel foolish to be filled with such feelings. They’re so alien, exotic and new.  Mostly because I don’t think we share the same feelings.

And now I know how one-sided it is. And my doubts grow so strong that you really will move on, but my admiration and feelings grow strong as well. But my heart dares to dream.

Haphazardly, I’ve been called stoic.  

“The difficulty with stoicism is that you don't move with the world as easily as others do. The world changes around you. People come and go, opportunities present themselves, but for the most part you'll be content with what you've got. That can be good for a while, but it's kind of dangerous.”

I’ve been told that the reason I can’t see myself with anyone else is because I’m stoic. As explained above. And I think maybe I am. But what’s wrong with that?

So baby, I’ve written you this, call it my extra dramatic love letter of doubt, but a love letter it still is. I love you, dear, I really love you. And maybe forever I’ll still chase you. Right until the moment, you stop, turn around and catch me.

Forever yours,