(no subject)
Dear MJ,
Aunt May has a box full of letters that Uncle Ben used to write to her. Even when they weren't apart and talking every day, he'd take the time on occasion to sit down and pen a letter to her. I thought was a little hokey when I was growing up, but I know how precious those letters are to her. Especially now. It shouldn't take a journal prompt to motivate me to write to you, but the truth is we've both been so busy with school and our jobs that it seems like we don't have as much time to talk as we used too. When we do talk I rarely remember to tell you all the things I mean too.
You're the love of my life, and I think you know that. I still get twisted up from the inside out when you walk into a room. My mouth goes dry, my heart races, and I still worry that I'm going to say something so stupid that it makes you wonder why you are with me. I'm still knocked out that you chose me. That you saw your future in my eyes the way I saw my future in yours. I'm as captivated by you today as I was when you moved in all those years before. People ask if I believe in love at first sight and what a cliche that is. Did I know from that first moment when you smiled and waved at me that you and I would be where we are now? Of course not! I was six years old and I thought you were an angel. Did I love you from that very first moment? You bet I did. I loved you as much as any six year old boy could love an angel. Just like I love you as much as any twenty-one year old guy can love his girlfriend. You're so amazing and I think you don't always see that. It's not just your beauty because you'd have to be blind not to realize what a knock out you are. It's the way you laugh so hard that anyone near you has to laugh along even if they don't get the joke. The softness of your touch when you brush back my hair from my face. The way you tilt your head and narrow your eyes just before you lay into someone with words so sharp they can't help but cut skin. You are one of a kind, Mary Jane Watson, and I hope this will be the first letter to go into a shoebox under your bed. I typed it up now, sure, but I'll hand write it on pretty paper later. I love you.
Love,
Peter
Aunt May has a box full of letters that Uncle Ben used to write to her. Even when they weren't apart and talking every day, he'd take the time on occasion to sit down and pen a letter to her. I thought was a little hokey when I was growing up, but I know how precious those letters are to her. Especially now. It shouldn't take a journal prompt to motivate me to write to you, but the truth is we've both been so busy with school and our jobs that it seems like we don't have as much time to talk as we used too. When we do talk I rarely remember to tell you all the things I mean too.
You're the love of my life, and I think you know that. I still get twisted up from the inside out when you walk into a room. My mouth goes dry, my heart races, and I still worry that I'm going to say something so stupid that it makes you wonder why you are with me. I'm still knocked out that you chose me. That you saw your future in my eyes the way I saw my future in yours. I'm as captivated by you today as I was when you moved in all those years before. People ask if I believe in love at first sight and what a cliche that is. Did I know from that first moment when you smiled and waved at me that you and I would be where we are now? Of course not! I was six years old and I thought you were an angel. Did I love you from that very first moment? You bet I did. I loved you as much as any six year old boy could love an angel. Just like I love you as much as any twenty-one year old guy can love his girlfriend. You're so amazing and I think you don't always see that. It's not just your beauty because you'd have to be blind not to realize what a knock out you are. It's the way you laugh so hard that anyone near you has to laugh along even if they don't get the joke. The softness of your touch when you brush back my hair from my face. The way you tilt your head and narrow your eyes just before you lay into someone with words so sharp they can't help but cut skin. You are one of a kind, Mary Jane Watson, and I hope this will be the first letter to go into a shoebox under your bed. I typed it up now, sure, but I'll hand write it on pretty paper later. I love you.
Love,
Peter