A letter to my one true love
Draft one...
from: mmalone@perinthus.edu
to: jlee@perinthus.edu
Dear Jenny,
Or how do I begin? Is dear too much of an imposition, or a supposition, when after all, we've barely spoken? If I could use the introduction of my heart, it would be dearest, or darling, or my love - but those would only frighten you, and give too much of myself away. You should know, however, that I am in love with you - not just as an object of love, but as the inspiration for love to even exist. You are a muse, a goddess, the reason we have Hallmark cards to express those sentiments that are too heavy for the heart, too light for the lips. In the fragile universe of my existence, you are the sun, the moon, each constellation and every star. You are the reason I wake in the morning with a smile from dreams that are pleasant, that I look forward to daily drudgery because it frees my mind for thoughts of you.
The way you sip your tea (never coffee) makes me wish that I were liquid, that I could slip between your perfect lips and drown somewhere inside you.
Everything about you is a reason to believe in a higher power - such perfection and grace can only be signs of intelligent design. And I fear for any hope I ever had of a scientific, objective mind, because I want to shout from every rooftop - I BELIEVE! I BELIEVE!
I cannot hope that you will ever feel for me in similar fashion. I am a poor poet - a musician struggling to play these heartstrings, a barista with a tab that often runs over and a mouth that remains silent like the winter snow. Your smile will be enough, the touch of your hand on mine - a heaven, a haven from the travails of this world.
I would do anything you asked... anything. I consider it the honor among honors to be asked to assist you in your time of need. Thank you for your trust and faith in me.
Ever yours,
Michael
(And after that quickly found the recycle bin... the revised, the one I actually sent...)
from: mmalone@perinthus.edu
to: jlee@perinthus.edu
Jenny,
Yeah.
I can cover your shift Thursday.
--Mike
from: mmalone@perinthus.edu
to: jlee@perinthus.edu
Dear Jenny,
Or how do I begin? Is dear too much of an imposition, or a supposition, when after all, we've barely spoken? If I could use the introduction of my heart, it would be dearest, or darling, or my love - but those would only frighten you, and give too much of myself away. You should know, however, that I am in love with you - not just as an object of love, but as the inspiration for love to even exist. You are a muse, a goddess, the reason we have Hallmark cards to express those sentiments that are too heavy for the heart, too light for the lips. In the fragile universe of my existence, you are the sun, the moon, each constellation and every star. You are the reason I wake in the morning with a smile from dreams that are pleasant, that I look forward to daily drudgery because it frees my mind for thoughts of you.
The way you sip your tea (never coffee) makes me wish that I were liquid, that I could slip between your perfect lips and drown somewhere inside you.
Everything about you is a reason to believe in a higher power - such perfection and grace can only be signs of intelligent design. And I fear for any hope I ever had of a scientific, objective mind, because I want to shout from every rooftop - I BELIEVE! I BELIEVE!
I cannot hope that you will ever feel for me in similar fashion. I am a poor poet - a musician struggling to play these heartstrings, a barista with a tab that often runs over and a mouth that remains silent like the winter snow. Your smile will be enough, the touch of your hand on mine - a heaven, a haven from the travails of this world.
I would do anything you asked... anything. I consider it the honor among honors to be asked to assist you in your time of need. Thank you for your trust and faith in me.
Ever yours,
Michael
(And after that quickly found the recycle bin... the revised, the one I actually sent...)
from: mmalone@perinthus.edu
to: jlee@perinthus.edu
Jenny,
Yeah.
I can cover your shift Thursday.
--Mike