Dear Love,
I write this with
shaking hands, cold to the touch, numb with fear and filled with emotion. My
hands shake, you see, because I’m nervous, afraid that I’m making a mistake
writing this message, afraid of rejection, of pain, of failure. But I can no
longer hold my emotions within, I cannot continue to watch you from afar,
oblivious of my existence, while I am so aware of everything you do. You see I
am in love, in love with your smile, with your laugh, with the way you wear
your hair, and the way you walk to class, the little things you do are my
favorite. Your beauty hails in comparison to nothing else on this planet, I am
firmly certain that you are the most perfect thing in existence. I spend my
nights dreaming of your face, your laughter fills my mind when you’re not around.
My heart knows that I belong solely to you; it yearns for your love and
compassion, to hear the words I say to you each night before I drift to sleep.
I wish only to love
you completely, and even though each day we grow older, I want nothing more
than what most may call, puppy love, I want to love you with my childish heart,
to write silly letters in the fog my breath causes on the window, to surprise
you with gifts, flowers, freshly plucked from the school garden. I despise the
old love, the love with no affection, where everything is old and experienced, I
want to jump head first into a love neither of us knows, to laugh and joke like
school children. When I look into your beautiful eyes I see an innocence
waiting to be released, I want to grow old with you, but love you inside as if
we were each others first crushes.
And so my love, I must
bring this letter to a close, because I fear if I put to much into it may scare
you off, the last thing my tiny little heart would ever want, but I must know
before I die, a final question I must lay upon your head,
Do you like me too?
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