Letters To You, Wherever You May Be

Loving you was never my intention. But somewhere along the line my heart became
tethered to you. The problem? I barely exist in your world. I am but a
passerby in your busy life. And yet, I would stop the Earth from rotating if it
meant you would acknowledge my presence. Your eyes ignite something within me that I have never
felt before. Your seemingly cold demeanor is a cover for your deeply warm heart.
I have seen your heart and I am not fooled by the crassness that you wear so
earnestly on your sleeve. You have hugged me, several times and my body and soul
have not missed one single touch. It means more to me than the air that enters
and escapes my lungs but for a brief moment. You make me feel whole, and real,
and womanly. Your laugh, oh your laugh does silly things to my tummy. I love to
hear you express the happiest of sounds. And when it is I who makes you laugh,
I feel I have done my good deed for the day. But why do I love you, really?
Well, because you believed in me and because you are a strong, honest, flawed
person and for that I find comfort and unity. You are so far above me and yet
somehow you are my equal. When I am near you I feel like a whole person, and
when you are absent I feel like a part of me is missing. If you only knew that my anxious demeanor only comes from not knowing what tomorrow holds. If you knew that I would love to spend a day with you, walking and talking and lounging around. I do not exist like this to win you over, to have you to myself but simply to be a part of your life. How do you stop caring? I certainly don’t know how. I don’t think I want to know how.

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