12.12.01

Since I can't send it to him, I'll send it to the love letter project:

Dear P,

I know we're not having a "relationship" so I can't officially write you this. But I just wanted to say that you make me so very happy -

the other morning (after the amazing night) when you were lying on my floor, sun shining through your curly blond hair, Bach Solo Suite for Cello playing in the background -

 you made my apartment feel like home.

You made me feel, for a few seconds, like I was home. At home in my own home. T

Thank you for making me feel loved.

12.28.01

Thursday, December 27th, 2001

 

Dear Kia;

 

I thought I understood all I needed to...  About life, work, having fun.  But the day I met you, my world was turned upside down, and I'm still trying to make sense of it all.  The only thing I understand now, is that I want to learn more... about you, your hopes, your fears, your joys, your sorrows, your successes and your failures.

 

Everytime I see you, I can feel my muscles pulling at the corners of my mouth, parting my lips in a smile...  You have that effect on people, a bouyant, carefree, giggle-infectious enchantment you don't even realize you posses.  You don't give yourself enough credit, you are far more entrancing and special than you allow yourself to believe.  I value you, your opinion, your mind, you sense of humor...  You should too, only more so, for you have spent all your life knowing yourself, and I've only been graced with these few paltry yet precious moments.  I envy you, because you know the woman I yearn to understand.

 

I enjoy being around you, you make me feel refreshed.  You had no preconceived ideas about me, no fore-warnings or biased gossip.  You took me at face value and were open with me, sharing with me.  I could see your openness when we would straighten the wall, the small bounce in your step made me feel as if you treasured the opportunity just to be near this new man you had just met.  If only I hadn't have been so tongue-tied, I would have regailed you with such stories we'd have never gotten our work done...  but neither would we have been upset about that either...

 

I love your pixieish sense of humor, and I adore the asthmatic snort of your laugh when I crack you up...  I know it makes you self concious, but to me, its music.  Its a treasure to my ears, my reward for having amused you, made you happy, brightened you day.  It's been so long now since I've heard it, and every iota of my body aches to hear it again, to have my ears tickled deliciously by the pure statement of your joy.

 

Anytime I see you in sadness, my soul just yearns to cup your soft face in my palms, tilt your head back so I can gently brush my lips against yours, and whisper that everything will alright, I promise...  I feel I've failed you when I can't be there to soothe your emotions, when I can't just spring a joke on you and have you burst out in laughter.  Sometimes caring can get in the way, make us hyperly aware of our action, terribly afraid to do or say some innocuous thing that might shatter the fragile, fledgling connection being born.  It's something I've wanted to nurture, but seem to have caused more woe than weal...

 

I remember the times you've hugged me, and I'm kicking myself for having made you ever feel that those touches were unwelcomed...  You never offended me with them, Kia; just the opposite, I came to like them, perhaps a little more than I should have.  What to you was probably an innocent gesture to me was rapture.  And then that one time you threatened to kiss me if I didn't put down the squirt bottle... Oh, God, I was clutching it so tightly I was sure it would break apart and soak us both.  My mind screamed "KISS HER!", my heart joined in its tirade, and if only I had a little more confidence at that moment, I'd have turned your playful threat into a moment of passion that would have left you breathless.

 

I also remember the week of "Evil William" (Boo!  Hiss!  Hisss!), when I was distant and remote.  You seemed so worried, so scared for me...  And when it was over, and we joked about it, I'd inadvertently had a slip of the tongue and revealed how a hug from you would have done wonders for me...  "You mean all I had to do was hug you?" you said...  Yes, that's all, just cornered me alone and hugged me, and I'd have melted in your arms so fast you'd have had to clutch harder to keep me from falling to the ground. *S*  That week was a mistake on my part, one of many I'll admit to where you are concerned.  I was afraid.  Afraid of how I was beginning to feel towards you.  Afraid of what happened anyway, despite my silly attempts otherwise.  I fell for you anyway, probably more because of your concern.  Seems like every little thing you do makes me admire you all the more.

 

When I offered to buy you dinner that Sunday night, I was so nervous.  It was the first time you and I had ever been alone together, and my heart was an eratic cacophony in my chest, beating faster than a hummingbird, my adrenalin pumping through my system like fire, the sound thumping in my eardrums louder than any explosion...  I had been working up just how to  ask you all week, looking for just the right words so each syllable would sweep you up in the feelings swirling around in my head.  I guess I needed to work on them a little harder, because you hadn't realized I'd asked you out.  Strangely enough, I find myself laughing at the circumstance.  Is it any wonder why I always think of you these days, and how each day makes me more powerless to stop this habit?  I think I need to slap myself around before I become a blithering idiot. *S*

 

And so here I am, at my wit's end.  How do I tell you how I feel without putting my foot in my mouth, or startling you?  Do I give you this, or keep my silence until the day comes when we part company?

 

No, I have to tell you.

 

I don't want to pressure you, or even sway you...  All this is, is my need to tell you the truth.  No matter what the outcome, I'm not ashamed of feeling this way about you.  If anything, I think you need to hear it.  For your sake.  For mine.  And for the sake of knowing that you can never be too sure when someone is going to come into your life and touch your heart.

 

You've touched mine... 

 

            ...I hope I have touched yours.

Will

12.30.01

Hi,

 

I discovered your site through davezilla.com and thought that this:

 

http://aprilgem.com/log/archives/00000025.html

 

might fit with your love letter project. Not exactly a love letter,

though... more like a letter of thanks.

 

-April

 
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