A Letter For Later

July 10, 2017
By , Bloomfield Hills, MI

Dear Matthew,


We’ve known each other for practically our entire lives, but only recently have I seen you clearly: my eyes are open to the possibilities between us. I never intended to send this letter—I think I am too much of a coward to do so. Maybe one day you’ll give me the courage. I hope that I am right about our connection, that it’s deep and true and only beginning to blossom.
You were different from the start. Though at times sweet on other men, I felt your character had a different flavor. Like a rose tea I’d grow more and more fond of with time, with persistence. All the men I was drawn toward held their eyes in a different direction, and held me in contempt or, worse, indifference.
Always sweet and cute, you started us from afar. I spent many rough nights with hot tears streaming down my cheeks and hopelessly lost and ready to let go, but then you started us. I remember one agonizing day when I went to see my English teacher. We were in the same class. She told me you read my paper, practically raving about how talented and wonderful I was. Your words shone a beacon of light in my direction, in the darkest and most tumultuous of times.
To have a genuine person fill the emptiness within my heart, take off the mask I show the rest of the world, and love the starved creature before you is a phenomenon I can scarcely believe to be true.
With the other men, I fell in love with their masks. With you, I saw through your mask. I fell in love with the man I saw underneath.
Our wounds run deeper than the nile, but we’re healers. We’re misunderstood, but we understand. Alone we’re cowards, but together we’re fearless.
I dream of us all day and night. I want to be close to you, hug you, kiss you—but I don’t know how. Together, we can traverse any obstacle, any adversity. All for those few words you spoke so many years ago, words you’ve likely long forgotten, a sea of potential lies before us.
For now, this letter will remain sealed shut. My mind in conflict with my heart. Maybe one day, when I’m a bit braver, I’ll have the courage to slip this letter under your door. Or hand it to you directly, and look into your eyes as you look into my heart.

 

With love,
Angie






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