
This is a love letter to someone I believe I’ll meet soon. Consider it manifestation, the art of love letters, or someone who’s reconnecting with their romantic side after a long time. One of my goals with my writing is to bring back the side of ourselves that loves love.
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It’s the day I’ve been waiting for, where you recognize me, as I sit in the coffee shop living and soaking the moment in. You come around to sugar to your latte, glancing across from me, hoping to get my attention.
I smile, waving at you. You start approaching the table I’m at, and I ask you to sit down.
When we chat, there’s this tension I can’t deny.
As I’m done with my coffee, and the lipstick stain smudges the cup, I tell him that I have to leave. We arranged a time for dinner that week.
My red dress, flowing hair, and heels made me feel like I was being pursued and courted. I loved showing up for him, at my best.
He pulled out my chair, I glanced over at him, noticing his smile, and a certain innocence in his eye.
Our dinner, seductive with humor and enthusiasm, made me realize how long it had been since there was someone positive in my life.
When we headed out the door, he held my hand, I blushed and panicked.
He told me it was okay, and that he knew from the start I wouldn’t be as easily comfortable and should have waited. I was taken aback, in the back of my mind, I thought, he’s so respectful.
As the weeks progressed, I calmed down. I felt safer with him.
Our dinners had a new excitement each time, I dressed up feeling like life had a new meaning. He had told me how very few people in his life had understood him. There was this relief in his voice that I wasn’t sure what it was. My heart was warm.
One day we planned to explore Central Park in the spring air and the niche hole-in-the-wall restaurants that only a few people know about. My dream of holding hands with my lover as I walk in a dress and coat among the flowers now turns into reality. As we were under the trees, he whispered in my ear, how I look pretty in white — we have a childlike spirit in our little world among the people walking by. I flirt with him, his face blushing at the words I whispered in his ear. Central Park felt more magical than I thought.
We found this corner, a place with not many people nearby. I was tired of how big Central Park felt. There was something on my mind that I had to tell him. I’ve never felt the way I’ve felt with someone like him. It seemed so foreign, that the feeling was magical and frightening. I got more emotional as I continued, probably the worst time to wear mascara. He wiped the tears from my face, telling me he knew how hard it was for me to open up. When you feel safe and loved at the same time, a woman takes a back seat to just breathe and exist.
That’s exactly how I felt. To my future lover, I hope you’re out there knowing there’s a woman ready to love you with her heart. She’s waiting to have the fullest expression in her voice and soul, knowing you’re by her side.
…
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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From The Good Men Project on Medium
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