This is a letter to you. What shall I call you? The One? My love? My heart and soul? The one who got away?
Well, I would say no, because you are neither of the above. I don’t know if you’re the one for me, I don’t know if you’ll always be the sole focus point of my affection, nor do I know if I will ever be able to completely entrust my heart and soul to another person on this planet. I also know that our story is far from finished.
Something inside both of us just clicked the first time we went out. It is a cliché, it’s old-fashioned, but the heart has no limits, boundaries or checklists to follow.
I was and am still constantly fascinated by you. I remember being brave enough to ask you to a university sorority dance. After going through a very tough break up, I needed a neutral person, someone I was not attracted to, in order to feel safe and comfortable, no feelings involved whatsoever.
So Facebook messaging began and a few weeks later, we were dancing the night away. My heart instantly melted at the sight, smell and feel of you and your arms around me.
Months passed, and feelings grew.
I decided to open up. You are not ready for something now.
Shattered, graduating, and moving to a new town, you left my heart a little bit bruised. You were the first man I could trust after my traumatic experience, after all.
Dreams of us, what we had, what we could have… they still visit me at night. I don’t feel heartbroken or sad. I simply long for you.
I long for the day when we will both be better suited and in a better place in our lives.
I long for the day you finally wrap your arms around me for good and commit to dancing with me in a public park, onlookers gazing at the brilliance of what we are.
This. This is to you.