Another love letter to no one (Archives: March 31, 2014)
I am constantly inventing people with whom to fall in love
Dear You,
I’m writing to you, and I know it’s going to feel strange to you,
but I’m writing,
because it’s the only way I’ve ever been able to get words in my head to sit still for a while,
and when we are together, my mind races, and my thoughts get jumbled, and the words get stuck in my mouth, until all I can do is look at you and smile. And really, that smile is hiding whispers of everything I want to tell you, but don’t know how.
oh, You. I called you today just to talk, and you answered the phone,
and you said “hi,” and my heart stopped,
because somehow you managed to fit the entire world inside those two letters.
Or maybe it’s just that those two letters have become my entire world.
Writing this letter to you right now feels like a moment in a metaphor that I feel you will understand.
I feel like I’m standing at half-court holding a basketball in the last second of a game in which my team is down by two. I look at the clock, look at the line at my feet, and throw as hard as I can, hoping with every cell of my being that the ball can make it to the basket and maybe we can win the game.
Sending this letter to you is like the moment when the ball is hanging in the air, and everyone hold their breath, and I am hoping that the ball will go in the basket, and maybe we can win the game.
Oh You, I like you a lot, which I think you know, and I think you like me too.
But I guess I’m holding my breath there, because you are very hard to read, and I wish I could analyze you like data points and figure out if the results support my hypothesis, but I can’t, because you’re a human being, not an experiment.
The truth is, I’m scared. I’m scared how much I like you. I’m scared that you’re moving away in July, which we’ve known from the beginning, but now I can’t help but wonder if you will want to come back and see me. Mostly, I’ve been ignoring the possibilities of the future past July, but now that future is growing steadily, closer, and I want to know of you’ll be in it.
I want to know if you’re going to be in my future, because I’m starting to fall for pieces of you that are going to make it hard to let you go.
I love the way you say hi when you answer the phone, like the entire world has been waiting until you answer. I love the angle of your jaw when I look up at you. I love how long your eyelashes are, and I love your crooked smile. I love the hundred separate shades of gold that hide in your gray-green eyes, and I love listening to your heart beating when I’ve made a pillow from your chest. I love waking up next to you and rolling over to curl up in your arms.
I always sigh like I’ve been holding my breath, because it feels like I haven’t been breathing until I met you.
I love how you smell when you get out of the shower, and I love how soft your hair feels underneath the water droplets you drip onto me when you climb back into bed.
I love that my heart stops when you hold my hand and how, when you run your thumb over my fingers, it feels like I’ve been waiting to be touched exactly there for as long as I’ve been alive.
I didn’t want to fall for you in this way, You. I didn’t want you to be anything other than a handsome stranger.
But I am falling for you. Every time I think about you, my entire body tingles, and it’s like the floor drops out from beneath me and takes my heart along with it.
But I’m scared. I’m scared because I don’t know your emotions as intimately as I know mine. I’m scared because my emotions run the entire spectrum, and I’m scared you’ll never be able to understand how deeply I feel everything.
I’m scared, because I’ve made horrific mistakes in my life and you’re so special that I never, ever want to hurt you.
Honestly, all the rational parts of my being are fighting against falling for you, because I just can’t imagine you’re ready for this. I can’t imagine you’re falling for me the same way I’m falling for you.
But I guess those are the shots we take.
So, here I am, standing at the three-point line as the clocks winds down to zero, watching my basketball fly through the air and wondering if I made the right shot.
I guess what I’m really trying to say is, I think I love you, You. And I hope you feel the same way too.
Yours,
Lara