Hey you
So, I wrote you a letter...
This was an attempt to write something short and sweet as a distraction from a longer, bleaker story that I'm currently working on. It was also kind of an experiment into flash fiction and using a letter as story delivery mechanism.
Comments and feedback are highly appreciated.
Hey you
by W. F. Albone
Story and characters © 2013 W. F. Albone
12 Moth Lane
North West Corner
Regency
R4 3AA
5th May, 2013
Hey you,
How strange is it to receive a letter these days that's not a bill or junk mail but an actual letter? Weird, right?
Listen, there are some things I want to say to you but can't. I don't know how. It's hard and it's scary and I wish I could do it but I just can't so I'm writing to you instead. And just because they're written down instead of spoken out load doesn't make what I'm going to say any less real, any less meaningful or any less sincere. It's just, I know how to write a letter is all
Let me start by saying we both know I have a reputation of being kind of cynical and dark, even bleak at times. I won't lie and say its unearned, it is, but it's not real, at least not all of it. It's a shell, a protective wrapper. And I'm trying to break out of it, honestly I am, and I think you've started to see that. I mean, we've made it this far, so you must have seen something worthwhile and that maybe I'm not a total lost cause!
You can try thinking of it like a creme egg: a hard outer casing with a gooey, teeth-achingly sweet mess in the centre. And you don't really want to let the centre out, you'll get your paws all sticky and you'll probably end up with weird goopy stuff in your fur. But, without it you don't have a creme egg at all. What I'm trying to say is that underneath the layers of cynicism and bullshit is a sweet, kind of dopey, soppy centre and you're going to have to deal with some of that stickiness. (Yes, I realise that's a double entendre but it's kind of appropriate, don't you think?)
I love you, hon. I love you and it's not like anything I've ever felt before. It's new and it's different and it's amazing. I get all warm and melty when I think about it and it's not going away. I'm not going to get all cliched and say you're The One, there's no such thing and no, I don't think that's cynical, I think that's optimistic. To believe that there's only one person in the world that you can be truly in love with is cynical, restrictive and statistically improbable. But, I do think you are a one and I am so very, very lucky to have found you.
There's this adorable little sound you make just as you're falling asleep. It's sort of a cross between a whuff and a gurgle (I know that doesn't make a lot of sense but it's kind of hard to describe) and it just makes me want to wrap my arms around you and never let go. In fact, almost every time I see you these days I want to wrap my arms around you and never let you go. Make us into a sort of double ouroborus thing, intertwined and inseparable, without start or end.
I want your scent to be the first thing I'm aware of as I'm waking up. I want to be able to reach out at any time and stroke that one spot behind your right ear that makes you squeak and shiver. I want to be there to smooth out your fur when you're angry and be a shoulder to cry on when you're sad.
What I mean is, I want us to live together, to find a new place that can be ours. Not mine, not yours, but ours. Some place where we can block out the rest of the world until there's just us, where we can continue to grow and explore and not worry about disapproving looks from certain kangaroos room-mates.
See, I'm not completely oblivious to these things and I hope I've surprised you for once. It's not often that I'm the one taking the initiative and, to be honest, I'm a little surprised too. It's a good kind of surprised though and it feels like the absolute right thing to do. I just hope that you think so too.
I'm going to leave it there before I get too gushy and start rambling on far too long. It still feels kind of weird that I can't say this to you and had to write it down. Maybe when I see you tonight I can just read this out loud to you? A sort of halfway point between writing and speaking. It'll probably sound of kind of awkward and stilted and take a few attempts but I think I should try it, right? I don't know.
No, I do know, I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise.
I'll see you later.
Love you.
xxxxx