LOVE LETTERS: RED INK

HIS LETTER

It was raining that day.

The day I first met you.

You rushed out of the flower boutique with a bundle of tulips and happened to bump into me. I'd only been passing by, umbrella in hand, but I'm sure that if I had been a moment too early or a moment too soon, I would have never met you.

You slid on the wet pavement and into my chest, almost like you just fell into my arms. You stared into my chest, your face was twisted into embarrassment (I couldn't tell if you were blushing or not.)

"Ack, sorry!" You had said and you pulled back and inspected your tulips. A few of them were crushed from the impact, and that seemed to upset you a little.

"Are you alright, dear?"

You nodded your head, still not making any sort of eye contact. You looked like you were going to cry. I desperately wanted to know why this beautiful person in front of me seemed so upset, if it was the rainy weather, the crushed tulips, or maybe something else.

I wanted to reach out and touch your face, but I didn't know why. There was an odd sensation in my chest that made me feel warm. I saw in the window of one of the stores that I was beginning to smile stupidly. My hand clamped over my mouth to try and fight back the grin. 

"Where are you headed? I can walk you there if you like, I have an umbrella."

You shook your head and clutched your tulips tighter. So cute.. I thought. I desperately wanted to walk with you, talk with you, and get to know you. Court you. My mother had always told me that I should do things the old fashioned way; court her, write her letters of endearment, tell her sweet things, eliminate any form of competition. Things of that sort.

Before I knew it, I was already imagining a future together with us and my cat and a nice house up north with a pretty fence and sweet children (or maybe no children at all, that sort of thing doesn't matter too much to me.)

Then you began to walk away into the rain. It was difficult to let you walk away, especially without knowing your name, but I knew fate had it's way of doing things. We'd see each other again.

And we did. I started noticing you around town, and I gathered information about you as I went. Soon I knew your name, place of work, home address and social medias. After that, finding out stuff about you was far easier.

I couldn't stop thinking about you, everyday and every night you plagued my thoughts (and you still do.) But I didn't know how to reach out, how to talk to you. Social media seemed too informal, and I could just walk up to you. Imagine that, some strange man walking up to you and trying to ask you on a date. How frightening! I simply could not subject you to such a scare.

So I wrote a letter. Letters are proper and  personal whilst still being romantic and heartfelt. Letters would be perfect.

I struggled with an opener. A simple hi, seemed childish, and I wasn't sure about 'Good Morning' or 'Hello'.

If you can't tell, I'm a bit of an overthinker, my sweet. Or perhaps you can tell. Oh that's a bit embarrassing.

Anyhow, I sent you the letter and now I'm writing this one.

I might not send it— it's just to record all that's happened up until now. Maybe we can talk about it the day we met someday.

But not now.

Perhaps someday soon, when I have you in my arms and we're both content.

So goodbye my sweet.

I hope to see you again soon..

the end.