I get told all the time that I'm a bit naive.
People say, "You know that I enjoy your little letters, but you do realize love is really not like that, don't you..."
Reminding me, "Nobody's that perfect."
Quickly adding, "I just don't want to see you setting yourself up for the impossible..."
Believing and disbelieving, all at once.
In what they say.Letting their words settle in.
Telling myself to grow up and get over it.
And yet, at the same time.
Shrugging their words off.
Knowing myself. Trusting in what I believe.
As Pollyanna as I am most of the time.
The thought of it all can really get to me.
Cause me to worry.
And question the center of myself.
The center of all that I cling to.
Because I know I've built you up, you see.
Into this image of ways I'd like you to be.
And sometimes I do worry.
That when I stare into your eyes for the first time.
When I answer you.
Speak to you.
For the very first time.
That I'll have to swallow up the world.
All these thoughts I've had of you.
And send them back out as something foreign.
But the fact of the matter is.
When it comes down to it.
I could care less whether or not you like to wear suspenders.
What your bad habits are.
Whether you'll take on certain responsibilities I can't muster to do.
I guess what I'm trying to say is.
I know you won't be "perfect."
I know there are a million things I've gotten wrong about you.
A million things I do not know about you yet.
And a million questions I'll want to ask.
Do you like to hear a train before seeing it?
Do you like to float on your back on the surface of the ocean?
Do you like sepia colored photographs?
Do you love me, too?
The truth is.
These little letters aren't requirements.
They are the way I've found to understand myself.
A way to find the center of me.
And even though essentially, these letters, these words, are yours.
They're mostly mine.