CRAWL ON MY HANDS AND KNEES



Dearest _____,

Two months have passed, and each day my attempts to forget you fail. Although two months and two blocks are all that separate us, they have successfully kept us apart. You do not love me enough to break their barrier.

But if I had any hope, I would crawl on my hands and knees those two blocks to see your face, to find warmth in your eyes and to rest my weary head on the hollow of your chest. No one else can truly connect the erratic threads of my thoughts into something sound. None else is capable of reading the nuances of my expression.

I obsess over your contradictions. I fell for your magnetism in a crowd and your secret introversion; your stern focus and your frivolity. I love your swaggering confidence, and your aching uncertainty. But why must you be so uncertain of me? Have I not shown you my devotion? I love you more than the first whispers of spring, more than the watercolor skies, more than any other soul on Earth.

Why must these two loathsome blocks seem like two hundred, like two thousand?

I have succumbed to the intoxication of other things in hopes that they may fill the void of your absence. They cannot create feeling, but only take it away for a moment. Liquor has no passions like you do; it has neither the wit nor the burning ambitions. It cannot satiate my hunger for adventure, nor can it prompt me to expect more from myself. These things only result from your love.

My Love, you must not feel the profound chasm of want in your soul as I do, or these two blocks would have been crossed long ago; these two months would have been filled with my presence. But know that I will continue to love you. I will delight in thoughts of the past and my affections shall only grow with every dragging moment. I will continue to love you even though a partof me dies every day I am without your love.

I live in hopes that you will spare the death of my heart.

Yours forever,

_____



the love letter collection
submitted 1:30 PM EST
sunday, december 7, 2008