Hi. I wish I knew you better. I wonder a lot of times about what you’re doing, and where it is that you’re hiding out. It’s like that Alanis Morisette song, where she’s writing letters to all of her ex-boyfriends. She says to one of them, “I will always have your back and be curious about you.” That’s how I feel about you, love. I want to be supportive of you; I want to believe in you and I want to know that you are there and even available for me. If you could just give me something to subsist on during this time when I don’t know you, I would have your back- I would defend you to the death. I would be a supporter and glorify your good name in every breath. For now, I will be curious about you.
What is your work? What is your passion? Is it your goal to bring happiness to people? Or to bring misery and heartache? What is your driving force? I used to be angry with people I knew who said that they were in love. I felt like they couldn’t have possibly known what that meant. I regret my anger towards them, because who was I to know? I felt so superior. I used evidence I heard one time that people loose their minds when they feel like they’re in love: they do crazy things, and their other responsibilities wane, taking a back seat to the idiotic other half of their personal whole. I think I was jealous, really. I think I wanted to know their inspiration and understand their rationale, because I didn’t think it was real.
I’ve doubted you, and pretended your existence, and thought I knew you, but you always surprised me, love. You are the great humbler of my heart. You are teaching me how to reach and how to grow and how too change. Sometimes I consider my capacity to project your effect, and I think it’s probably great, albeit a lot of work. What I really want, love, is to have someone send it back to me. All of the messy ramifications of that, I will accept. I’ll take the poor grades and the slogging work ethic. I’ll take the wrinkles under my eyes for the long nights spent under the stars with another beating heart. I’ll take the blow to my pride for the possibility of admitting that I know you, love.
Please come quickly.