- Gender and Relationships
Command Performance Love Letter
The other day, in passing and after a few drinks, you mentioned it'd be cool to receive one of my famous love letters. Just for kicks, you laughed, though you blushed a bit when you said it. Just to have your own very custom missive, to be able to flaunt it and feel above the others, you giggled.
In passing, rather distractedly, I muttered, "yeah, right." At the time, I thought your comment silly and funnily flattering, but mostly on the alcohol induced side. Nevertheless, after we parted ways, I got to thinking about it, and the idea took hold to go ahead and make you happy, what could the harm be, I'd also get a kick out of putting that smile on your face, that blush on your cheeks. So here I sit today, writing you one of my so-called famous love letters.
Would you know, Jane, that I need to prepare to write a love letter? That I need to take my mind to a calm and clear place where only you will feature? Do you understand that I will get inside my mind to see a Jane that only I can see? Let me tell you how this works, Jane.
I focus my thoughts on you, I draw a mental picture of your smile, your laughing eyes, your hands that move about like butterflies when you talk, your still youthful and shapely body, the sound of your voice, the sweet and at times intoxicating smell of your perfume, and sweep everything else off my mind. All my senses are on you, and the feelings I want to write about start emerging from places I didn't know existed.
I've got you in my mind's eye, Jane, and the picture I painted gives me pause. This should be a very easy to write love letter, baby.
As all my attention is on you, fine tuned to a woman only I can see, I realize I don't want to disappoint you, and instead of plowing ahead, I stop to wonder what things will make you shiver in silent excitement as you read, will make the hair at the back of your neck stand on end, will make your stomach churn with the truths being uncovered? What words of mine will make you blush? What thoughts on paper will leave you wanting that this letter lasts forever?
I'm anxious to find myself second-guessing what words of mine will make you want to stop and re-read to savor a paragraph. I'm uncharacteristically nervous that I don't know what you'll feel, now that you're reading your very own love letter, Jane, and I realize it matters what you'll think and what you'll feel as you read this.
I hope it makes you happy to read that I love you, Jane. I hope it makes you happy to read that I'm glad you asked for this letter, giggling and blushing, and I hope you asked for it because you really wanted it but didn’t know how to go about asking seriously, didn't know another way to tell me that you want me.
I can practically feel you blinking in my mind's eye as you read this. Did I get it right, Jane? Is this what you wanted to read in my letter? That I love you? I love you, Jane. If you only knew how easy it is to write this letter, how delicious and thrilling and liberating it feels to finally allow myself to focus all my thoughts on you, to unleash what was always there, hidden under all the love letters I ever wrote.
I hope this is the love letter that you wanted, I hope that you read it a thousand times, that you wear the paper thin from reading and re-reading, until you believe that this was the easiest of all love letters, and that my heart is in each and every single word within this page.
P.S. How did I do?