A Letter To The Lover I’d Been Waiting For All My Life


Hi, Love.

I wonder why that precise point where the blue of the sky greets the green of the tree, is at once so confusing and splendid.

I wonder if the rain drop knows that when it hits the ground with all its force, it expands and morphs into tiny little pieces of itself and that it is indeed a wonderful phenomenon — I wonder whether it resists it. I hope it doesn’t.

I wonder whether or not all the enormous stars up there know that we mortals worship their beautiful, tragic death.

It’s strange, isn’t it? We never truly know what’s becoming of us. We never do. But we know we are becoming. We know we are.

But we know we are becoming. We know we are.

Ever thought if our respective lives would change at all, had this river taken a whole new route together, had Chance decided to give us a heads up: “Hi, you! On a random day in the month of June, 2016, that is swelling because of terrestrial heat, you’re going to meet the love of your life. And hey, you won’t even remember this meeting!”

Or — “No, silly, not this dress. That one. He’ll like that more, I’m telling you.”

Told you it’s strange.

Ever wondered what would become of us if we didn’t make the mistakes we’ve made? If we didn’t meet the people we did? If we didn’t break the hearts we did? If they didn’t break our hearts —

If they didn’t break our hearts —

— and take a little bit, just a little bit of our souls along?

Then how would we ever, ever have made this happen?

How would I have known that when you made me laugh, my aura expanded like a chocolate bar in the freezer that cannot contain itself in its cover?

I wouldn’t have known that when you made me cry that first time, you made me capable of giving and receiving and giving and receiving and giving, and giving, and giving; and loving.

Living. Breathing. Not surviving, but really, in its truest form, existing.

I’m proud of my mistakes. I promise to always wear my heart on my sleeve, my skin inside out, my heart upside down, and to love you like my life depended on it. Because it does.

All my life, baby, I was preparing for today. To cause this sad-smile, happy-tear on your face. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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