“Why me?,” I’ve heard you ask. A simple enough question, I suppose, but to truly answer that question, I would need so much more time and thought than I could hope to have this life. It all happened so suddenly, you see. As a child, I had many dreams, as children often do. But not to be an astronaut, or a teacher, or to be a fancy CEO. Nothing as glamorous as all that. No, I wanted to find “The One” (queue eye-roll). All I’ve ever wanted was to find my true love, find my own little corner of the world that I can call my own, and make the second biggest dream I had as a kid come true; having a family. I know it probably sounds pretty boring, but back then, I wanted that more than anything. I’m not really sure why; I never had absent parents, and I was always surrounded by my two younger sisters. It wasn’t as if I grew up on some remote island and went years without human interaction. Something deep inside me yearned to find her, that spirit that also yearned for me.
And so, I searched. High and low, every nook and cranny. Got my heart broken many times. Many, many times. I kept praying and hoping that maybe this time, my dream and I would be enough, only to be dissapointed again and again. So I gave up. Days, weeks, months, years passed, and the dream I once couldn’t go a day not thinking about became just that; a dream. Not something I could ever hope to have happen, let alone to someone like me.
And then you blew in, like the wild, infectious, Aries flame that you are, and you set my whole world on fire. All of the time I spent sealing myself away was undone in a look, and I was scared. Good God, was I scared. I still am, truthfully. Who are you? That you could come in and awaken thoughts and feelings and words that I myself have never felt before, yet somehow knew that at one point, I did? There was something so familiar about you, something so refreshing, as if my very soul breathed a sigh of relief, whispering, “It is her.” That’s when I knew, you know? When I was with you, my soul grew calm and quiet, finally at peace.
How could I not write about you? This very blog is an ode to you, for you are the very inspiration for all of my works. I don’t care if they’re all about you, for how could they not be? You say you feel sad because maybe you think I’m wasting my talent on you, or that you don’t deserve the things I’ve said. But you could not be more wrong. My God, you deserve so much more than my imperfect heart and soul could ever hope to give you. I want to write about nothing but you. I want to write about what keeps you up at night, how you wish your parents were so much better, how much you wished your aunt could be here with you, your dreams of being a boss ass bitch in a pantsuit who’s cubicle has one too many dying plants. I want to write about how much your laugh alone makes my entire life worth living, and how your gorgeous, brown eyes make me fall for you every single time I look at them. I want to write about your cute nose, and how you think it’s too big and too much like your father’s. I want to write about your cheekbones, and how elegant and graceful you look without even trying.
Everywhere I go, I see you. I hear your laugh in the windchimes in my room, your hair in the clouds, your eyes in the earth that I walk upon. When I walk among the mountains, I feel the quiet semblance of eternity that I feel when we embrace, and when I look up at the cosmos, at the infinity of the stars, I see your freckles amidst the constellations that shine in the midnight sky, but they could never sparkle as brilliant as you.
To me, love is inordinate. I would blanket the world in a void of darkness, and unveil a blinding crescendo of stars. I would drain all the worlds oceans and urge you to count, grain by grain, each bit of sand that covers the ocean floor. I would tally the beat of every human heart that has echoed throughout time since the dawn of our existence. And as you stand there, in awe over the magnitude of my admission, I would take your hand in mine, and whisper to you, ever so softly,
“If you could ever find it in yourself to let me, this is how much I can love you. And I want you. It’s as simple as that. I’ve spent a great deal too much of my life already trying to convince myself that I can make do with less but I can’t. Do you hear me? I’m done. I’m not giving up. I’ll wait for an eternity if I have to. A life without you is not enough.”
I stopped looking for love, and it found me. So that’s “Why you,” you magical woman. Because you’ve made the dreams come true of a child and a man, and you did it with nothing but your heart and freckles. Darling, you are all I’ve ever wanted love to be.