My dearest one, my treasure, I have always wanted to tell you I love you. I have always wanted to tell you verbally, with words from my own mouth. Not with songs, not with tea or scones or heartfelt gazes or caresses or gentle taunting. I have always wanted to tell you.
I met you in August, and the moment I saw you I knew that I would love you. It’s March now, and I haven’t seen you, haven’t touched you or smelled your cologne since December. How quickly have the months passed since your plane took you home. As thankful as I am for it, Skype does your voice, your laugh, your beautiful face so little justice, and it certainly doesn’t allow you to go on long walks on sunny afternoons with me or sit with me on the couch so as I may fall asleep on your shoulder.
My love, you are the only one I want. I have progressed past the joy of looking forward to seeing you and have begun to desire to be with you all of the time. No matter what people say about you or about me or about us, I love you. I love you so much, with all my heart, forever. If they say that you are wrong for me, they are wrong. If they say it can’t be done, that we will slip from one another’s memory before I can be in your embrace again, in a year and a half, our happiness will prove to them otherwise.
Every song I hear I imagine was written bearing you and I in mind. Every poem I write, every piece I play, every romantic film I watch is for you. I see your face everywhere, I hear your voice in the music we rehearse in orchestra. It’s March now, my dearest, and in a year and a half, I will be with you again. No matter what anyone says. They do not know love. They do not know our love. They did not feel your hands on mine, your arm around my shoulders, your eyes set upon mine. They do not believe I know how to love. They do not believe that we can spend so long so far apart and still love one another.
My moon, let us prove them wrong. Yes, to answer your questions, yes: I know where I will study abroad, I know where I want to go to graduate school. Yes, I will make it happen.
Yes. I love you. This preposterous love you and I have, never uttered verbally, always kept at bay behind the guise of ‘friends’, but, my dear, I have never shaken the kiss you gave me with your eyes from my mind. This preposterous love, so many miles and months between us, will endure.
Yes. I love you.