Dear Genny,
If this ever finds its way into your hands then I am stupider than I even give myself credit for. You see, when I start writing letters to a woman, it is the beginning of the end. It means I have fallen head over heels in big-dumb-puppy love.
I find that after a couple of days in your wonderful company, I am a pleasant mix of confused, elated, excited, afraid, hopeful, pessimistic, amazed and going on crazy. But I feel good.
I guess you know me to be an emotional person. One who falls in love very easily. A fool. But I know my heart. I watch over it. I observe it as it goes through its changes, makes its mistakes and pays the price. My mind is rationally taking notes on life as my heart experiences upheaval and renewal.
I know how I feel about you as a person. As someone with whom I have shared friendship, ideas, beliefs, trust, heartaches, good times, music, food, and a warm blanket by the fire, I can say that I really do love you. I will always care about you, desire your friendship, be concerned for your well-being and be there for you if you ever need me.
I could not honestly say that about Joy. Even during the best moments, I held a piece of my heart back. I had my own doubts. I was not truthful to her or to myself. She was saying "I love you," "Your all I want in a man," "Let's move in together," etc. etc. while we had only known each other for a week. It was too much for my little brain to handle.
When she later came to her senses and said,"Let's cool it," I must confess, it didn't bother me nearly as much as I had expected. In fact, it was a relief. She was not what I was looking for, but I just couldn't reject her when it seemed like she liked me. I have since learned to be honest with myself about my feelings (ha) or to try to be.
I never stopped liking/lusting after you. I just kept on finding different things to like about you as we'd spend time together. You seemed sympathetic, aware, understanding, pretty, funny, "wacky", in general a real joy to be around. I can't help feeling very strongly about you.
We have shared some intimate times, which I will never be able to forget. I hope they don't have to just be memories. I don't know if you could ever see yourself with a guy like me, and I could only dream of a girl as wonderful as you, but I just know that I love being with you.
You turn me on. You make me feel all squishy and weird. Lying next to you, I felt a combination of blessed contentment and tortured restraint. I want to make love to you so much. God, you are so beautiful, and so near, yet I don't want to make you feel smothered, or like the object of unwanted affections. I can't help wishing and hoping, lusting and longing.
You see, its not just dumb-puppy-love My feelings for you are based on what I know about you as a person, your convictions, your taste, your likes and dislikes. I like who you are. Messy room and all. You are cool. I dig you.
I find you so pleasing to be around. I couldn't hope to meet someone who has been a better friend or anyone who is more attractive to me. I am in love with you and that's that. Oh, please please, say that there could be a chance.
I would give anything, do anything to make it work. I guess I really sound pathetic. Oh, well.
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.