My dear,
Tonight I will speak softly, with a melancholy tainted voice. I hope you don't mind the shift in energy. I tend to do that sometimes, I get blue.
Honey…
I wish there would be no rules, no hard feelings. I wish we could embrace and explore all loves we feel. Ignite every spark. Even if it last only for a second, or two. Sometimes a couple months, maybe a few years. Who cares? Life? I don't think so.
As much as I enjoy the apparent romanticism of the idea, I came to the conclusion it has nothing romantic to it. What is romantic is to fall in love. To feel butterflies in your stomach out of nowhere for no specific reason. What is romantic is creating electricity in the air, anticipation, passion. Creating bonds between people, and not just two of them. What is romantic is letting me love one today, and the other tomorrow. Letting me love both at the same time, even. Now that would be lovely.
Making choices is renouncing. Why do we put ourselves through that? Who made that rule, that you can only have one? I don't like rules. I don't want to be limited. Love is infinite, expandable. Love is fragile. Above all, love is rare.
Let's not get all worked up on the meaning of love, it's not that deep. I mean, sometimes, but it doesn't have to be, always. In this letter, please consider love the overall bliss feeling, the wanting to spend time with a person. Love can be your friend, your family. Love can be a tree, a warm summer breeze. Love can be you, love is me.
Boundaries are meant to be crossed. Nobody needs to be hurt in the process. If we would just all accept we are part of something bigger. If we would just accept our only purpose is love. Love is the answer to all questions. What do you take for breakfast? Love. What created all life on earth? Love.
So please, would you indulge me? Would you step aside your forged path and join mine? It won't be long, if you don't want to. But I'd like to know what it feels like to hold your hand, to danse silently in the middle of a field, only for your laughter to come break the silence. And me starting to laugh uncontrollably, and us falling in the grass because our knees got weak. And your face landing just a few centimeters from mine. And my breath getting cut meanwhile time is suspended. What would happen then?
I'm like a gasoline tank, y'all are like a perfect matchbox. Any and all could light my fire. Today I feel like picking you. Like I did yesterday. And likely will tomorrow.
It was not my fault to meet you only now. I'm so very late to the party. But how is this fair? You made decisions before meeting me, I made decisions before meeting you. But know it is different, isn't it? Now our timelines just crossed and then what? Because of past decisions we can never make future decisions? Just not fair.
I wish it was simple to follow your advice, the one you planted as a joke without knowing you hit the bull's eye. How ironic that it came from you, so innocently. You know, I would if I knew someone was waiting for me somewhere. But I'm afraid there is no one. I'll stick around, cowardly unhappy, until we can bend the rules.
Situations are complicated. I wish they didn't have to be.