Open Letter
To my future lover,
Why me? I feel that I don't deserve you, that there are way more attractive, smart, and funny individuals out there--fit to match the mold of your heart. I can't even act properly when I'm around you. Every time you call my name, my ears tickle. Every time you stare, my knees weaken, my face warm-up, and I'd look away ashamed--not worthy of receiving them. Every time you hold my hand, my entire body melts like ice, heart liquefies, spreading throughout my veins, I bleed of pure love. The affection you constantly show, the care you constantly provide, I cry just thinking about them. I know it seems pretentious and superficial, but know that it's all natural--my feelings as authentic as the wild flowers that grow beyond the peaks of mountains; it's as clear as spring water; it's as delicate as fine china. You'll soon discover my discrepancies and become familiar with my mannerisms. You'll lose interest and think that I'm too clingy--a key stuck in a chain. You'll quickly recall disappointing moments when we argue--I'm always to blame. Despite my imperfections, you'll stick around for a while to see where this path will take us. Relationships are unpredictable. We can only evaluate the value of it through moments we've spent. . carving our names on picnic tables and aging trees. Speaking as if all of this will eventually happen; it's all wishful thinking. Pinning all the possible visionary interests on a drywall--bare and taintless.
I am growing impatient by the day. Where are you? Are you waiting for me--to come to you, to be presented on a special occasion, to be neatly decorated with characteristics you find desirable? Perhaps we've already met--on city sidewalks, train stations, supermarkets, restaurants, gathering commons, elevator rides, church benches, museums, food lines? There are so many versions of you that I sometimes get distracted by the perfect image I expect you to be. When will you come to me? When will you whisper my name? When will you hypnotize my full attention? When will you caress the surface of my layered soul? When will take my sins away?
You are only a dream I look forward to reliving at night. A show I would buy all the tickets to. A song I would sing to last forever. It's possible that we will never truly meet, but know that I'm hopeful for that day to come. Know that I'm here. . . ready. Should you decide to appear, no need to warn me in advance. Just be there, ok baby?
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