Clearly inspired by the night's events, I've come to recognize some of the poetry in my heartaches. The following is a letter I wrote to a girl when I perceived her as becoming aware of my attraction to her. I loved her, but I was too afraid of just telling her that, so I wrote her this. She will be referred to as "K," and I've removed some of the intimacies.
K,
I feel that you perceive me as getting too close to you, or trying to manipulate something. I have to emphasize the fact that this is not the case. I think that you can honestly say that in a few short moments we've learned much about each other, and grown to enjoy one another's company. I think I've overstepped myself for such a recent acquaintance, and I'm sorry for encroaching. I never, ever wanted to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought that we were having fun and beginning to care about one another. I have no advice worthy of you hearing for (her boyfriend), your future or your mind; I only know that all I know about you right now is that you're simply wonderful. You are my favorite company I've ever been around, bar none. It has been so hard coming back here after basically a failed experiment in following my wishes over my (circumstances) in going to Boston, and you're the only reason I'm still putting up with it. And my habits are changing, too. My diet has changed only since meeting you. I'm becoming a better man just by knowing you. And this has got to be so strange for you to hear, but I'm a writer, and I've spent my whole life looking for the good things. The moment, last Saturday night where I picked you up for the concert, it might have been my favorite moment of my whole life. I just felt that there was such a beautiful, kindred spirit whom I was finally sharing with. And it hurts to say this, because you could only perceive them as flaws of mine, but it's true.
The point is, that I think I'm just going to tuck that thought away, and all these moments between us I'm going to hide away so that you're not put off by me being so effusive about seeing you or being in your presence. I'm so sorry that I have to put you in this situation, but there's no way that I can't tell you that I miss you immediately upon the moment you rise from your seat next to me, or the moment that I have to turn away to pretend to think about something else. I don't even know why I'm sending this letter necessarily, but that you said that I'm nothing at this moment, and it wasn't an insult, but a truth. I'm afraid of you thinking I'm trying to make this more for you than just a simple acquaintance until you can return to the people you care about. I feel ashamed for letting myself feel so much when you think I shouldn't have, but like I said, I'm a writer, and I have to look for the wonderful things. And it's in the security of me saying that I'm a writer that I would do anything for you. I need to feel that kinship.
I wanted to ask you out for a drink tonight, or anything, but I not going to, and I don't want you to feel pity or any of that. I want you to treat me as honestly and free of sentimentality as you wish. I'm terribly impetuous, and it's a burden for some, but I know right now that, even as I have nothing, I'd give up all of it to be near you, never to try and trick or seduce, but just enough that I would be able to see you, and not be ashamed in thinking that it's going to be one of my best days.
Always,
Matt
Cyrano, anyone?
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