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My belov’d,
How long have I labored, in love, to commit my mind to paper and confess to you how you have captured my heart? Since the moment we met my every thought, my every dream, has been of the day when at last we might embrace and our souls be laid bare. Yet, as that day approaches, I fear myself impotent, so utterly incomplete. I wonder what you might make of me when at last you know of how smitten I am and how dear you are to me?
I recall, so clearly, that day at the bank when first our paths crossed. It was as if I had seen an angel. You, so very kind and tender, holding open the door for me and offering up that smile which would soon set my heart ablaze. Yet I, in my hapless state, struck dumb with the first sparks of romance, pushed on past you, fearful to meet your eyes and betray to you how completely you had won me with that simple gesture.
And how very kind you were mere minutes later when I found you again on the streets. I couldn’t help but fumble over my own feet, merely seeing that radiant one who the fates had blessed me with. You remember, don’t you, how cold and rainy it was, though I have never been able to say how lovely you looked despite the downpour, nor how moved I was that you would offer a place in your cab to me. To me!
And oh, how perfectly right it seemed to sit beside you then, though our love had not yet blossomed, and how wondrously divine you were to bear up my shyness though you knew me not.
O’, the rightness of our union growing ever more apparent with each day and night spent together! Our evenings on the town, long walks in the park after dusk. You, shining light on all around you, and I, so unable to tell you what you mean to me.
I kissed you goodnight from a block away, wishing so desperately that I could find the words to express what my heart then knew.
Then, the next day, as you left the office, looking downtrodden and I, struggling to say or do anything that would dispel the clouds from your countenance. O’, how weak and small I am when compared to you, and how lucky I feel whenever I see your face.
Our first night together, you looked so lovely in your evening dress, staring out your bedroom window into the night. I wondered, then, what you must think of in moments such as those? For you look as one so aware of this world yet seeking another, as if you knew something of your angelic being, and that you were made for a world more perfect than this.
How peacefully you slept, safe and secure, I keeping steady watch over you from outside your window.
I love how the air changes when you enter the room, and how your fragrance lingers after you leave. Oh the times I have wanted to reach out and make myself known to you as you lie awake at night, crying for I know not what, as I imagine holding you from my bed beneath your own.
Soon.
Soon, my dear, our union will be complete. I shall wisk you away to the place I’ve prepared and finally you will see me as I am.
My friends, I fear, are jealous of you, but you will meet them in time in our happy home. They may frighten you at first, but you must remember that I love you, and in time, so will they.
Oh, what joy that that day so fast approaches! So soon will I lift you over the threshold, down my cellar stairs, and we might consummate our love there in our own home. What fun we will have then, you and I, as the years pass away until that day when you will join the rest of my friends in peaceful sleep eternal.
But, know, my dearest, that then I will weep.
For I know I will never alight to where angels tread, and most certainly will miss you terribly. But please forgive me, my love, if in time my heart finds another.
For the world is full of angels; sleeping, ever sleeping, in the darkness of my heart.