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Letters- Part 1 of 10

Dearest Reader,

What is love?

Why are two people destined to live so far away but be so harmoniously entwined in the words one another speak.

I am no-one, my name would bring you no substance, my face no relief to whatever burden you carry. My only power is my words, they entrance, they conform to no boundaries and they are known to entice people to listen.

I urge you to listen.

I am in love; As much as one who has never spoken to this person may be…

But I know it.

I can feel it on the tip of my tongue, toying with me, my mind spending each night conjuring up images of her face, to which I can place no name.

But my mind has never failed me before, so I know it is true.

I am hopelessly in love with a figment of my imagination.

You see, I have not yet spoken to my one true love, I have not yet experienced her true presence, or felt the earth rotate under my feet at her words, but I know the day will come.

I see a person, with hair black as coal, eyes like parsley, placed delicately on a pie, lovingly made from scratch.

I see teeth, slightly crooked, lips on the smaller side, a dimple in each cheek.

I see a warm smile, like the one your mother gives you as you take your first steps into big school. I see hands, calloused and worn, not soft. I see hips rounded and shaped, a stomach slightly too big for her jeans.

I see shoulders that look too far apart and collarbones that stick out like rocks in the sand.

I see freckles, coving strange places on skin so pale it shimmers.

I see eyelashes that most would envy, shielding such round eyes.

I see scars from angry helpless nights and I see scars from bike crashes in the past.

I see that one leg is slightly too long and one arm is hairier than the other.

I see perfection.

But most importantly I see a soul behind this curtain of appearance.

I see a soul so vivid it paints colours on the black and white canvas that is my mind.

I see a can of spray paint, held in an open palm, a world surrounding it in utter darkness.

I see this one incredible soul glowing so brightly it illuminates everything in its path.

I see so much love and joy held in this little spray can, now in someone else's palm, someone who lacks the ability to unleash the potential that is inside this spray can that only one as soulful as she could weave.

I see a desire to explode into colour and paint the rooftops of the world.

In the centre of it I see a child staring ominously at the walls that surround it, oppression biting at this child's tail, warning it of the worries that live outside her walls. But this child is afraid of being let out, what might the world think.

I see all of this inside two wide brown eyes, shielding most from what resides beneath, protecting the child in the centre of a black and white cage, holding a spray can desperate to unleash a kaleidoscope of havoc on the world.

But only with my mind.

I want nothing more than to have these eyes I dream about so vividly looking at only me, as I walk to this bench where I now sit, as I go about my day like there is nothing more to my life than exactly what I'm doing now.

But there is.

Could someone out there be unable to stop dreaming of my eyes? How they shine at the sight of beauty in a world so afraid of what lays behind it and blind to what lays before it.

Could someone also look at the sky at two am and wonder what else could be out there?

I know that there is someone who right now is reading this and imagining being that someone, finding the other someone to complete them.

I know all of this because I can't stop these thoughts from occupying my mind.

I see so much.

I see so many wonderful things, but the most wonderful of all is the two brown eyes that haunt my every waking moment, begging for me to really look at them like no one else possibly could.

I know these two brown eyes are looking for me.

So I'm writing this, I'm telling you all of this because somewhere in my deep and dark soul I know who you are.

I do not know your name.

I do not know your story.

But I am in love with your two big brown eyes and every detail of your mind.

If there is one thing I can suggest…

I know when you read this you see what I see but your mind refuses to believe it could be you.

Please know that as insane as it sounds, my mind only conjurers up what it knows to be true, I know more about you than this.

So much more.

On the other side of your daily café I sit, looking up at the sky, as two am ticks by knowing you know the truth of it.

We are soul-mates of a different kind of genre, we do not develop over time, mulling our options, meeting each other’s families.

We were built to fall into each other’s arms, lost and insecure and afraid of the world outside the four walls our mind has always protected us in.

I refuse to be caged.

So, I ask only one thing of you.

If you too know in your deep dark soul that we are meant as one, reply to me, so I may see your handwriting, so delicately entwined with mine.

Send me a letter my love, with everything you'd be too afraid to tell your mother.

I promise you I will only ever listen.

Your Secret Admirer

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