Not a love letter...
...but the closest thing to a love letter that I've ever received found its way into my email-box last night.
At first I thought it was erotica. I read further, and realized in the first few sentences that he was talking about the event where we'd met. I kept reading, and I realized that he was talking about the night he met me...about everything he was thinking and feeling when he met me. As if the raw honesty wasn't enough of a compliment just in and of itself, the things he said about *me* were just ...well they were breathtaking. I couldn't believe someone saw me like that.
Then I looked at the scene (and I use that in the literary sense of the word) he was describing, and at every observation he made about me. Want to hear something weird? As impressed as he was with the lady he was describing, when I turned my mind to look at it all objectively, I couldn't deny anything he said. He described me as being someone I really always wanted and want to be. He thought I was already there. And...nothing he said was an exaggeration.
How about that?
I thanked him. I told him I appreciated the honesty. He admitted it wasn't easily obtained. And I told him something I intend to tell myself a few more times....just to help me remember:
Maybe it's time to stop knocking myself so much and to start living up to what I've got in my natural armory.
Like I said...it wasn't a love letter. He just wanted me to know something about him and something more about myself.
What a lovely Christmas gift.
At first I thought it was erotica. I read further, and realized in the first few sentences that he was talking about the event where we'd met. I kept reading, and I realized that he was talking about the night he met me...about everything he was thinking and feeling when he met me. As if the raw honesty wasn't enough of a compliment just in and of itself, the things he said about *me* were just ...well they were breathtaking. I couldn't believe someone saw me like that.
Then I looked at the scene (and I use that in the literary sense of the word) he was describing, and at every observation he made about me. Want to hear something weird? As impressed as he was with the lady he was describing, when I turned my mind to look at it all objectively, I couldn't deny anything he said. He described me as being someone I really always wanted and want to be. He thought I was already there. And...nothing he said was an exaggeration.
How about that?
I thanked him. I told him I appreciated the honesty. He admitted it wasn't easily obtained. And I told him something I intend to tell myself a few more times....just to help me remember:
Maybe it's time to stop knocking myself so much and to start living up to what I've got in my natural armory.
Like I said...it wasn't a love letter. He just wanted me to know something about him and something more about myself.
What a lovely Christmas gift.