I was rummaging through my old WordPerfect files today and deleting all the old stuff when I came across a letter I wrote to Ryan about 6 months after we started dating.

Now, keep in mind here that I am the most unromantic person in the entire universe. Ryan, on the other hand, is a big romantic ball of candy and flowers and pretty words. He even used to write me poetry (but shh, I never said so).

So in order to keep up with his romantic needs, I tried to be extra charming, which for me means falling on my face even MORE often and mixing up simple phrases and turning "I love you" into "Love You, I do....I mean, Love, that thing that I feel for you, I...and You..."

So I wrote him this letter. And I swear I tried to put romance in it. I tried to put thrills. I tried to put action! I tried to bring tears to his eyes.

But reading it now...Well, it makes me giggle. I mean, I tried SO hard, and it's about as romantic as the lint blowing across our lenolium floor.

But I'm putting it here, as a testament to those friends of mine who read this that think that...well, we treat each other more like an old married couple than we do lovers.

But it wasn't always that way.

*This isn't the whole letter, but pieces of it.*

I remember the first night I stayed at your house. You seemed amazed that I could be so happy all the time. But truth was, I hadn’t been that happy in a long time.

A few sleepovers later and I was beginning to think this could be something more. Still afraid that you didn’t feel the same way, I was reluctant to say anything. Too stubborn to admit I was too scared to ask you out, especially too scared of what I’d do if you said yes.

By that point I thought I was broken anyway. For sure my spirit was. I didn’t think I had it in me to love someone.

You seemed so much older, and so much more in tune with yourself. You knew who you were, and what you wanted, and it seemed I couldn’t compare to that. Here I was floating through life by the seat of my pants. Not sure what I wanted out of school, of life, of a man, of even myself.

How could I even have a chance with you?

You made me happy even then. Those were my favourite nights, you know. Your stories were hilarious, your midnight sleepy ramblings even more so. The endearing way most of your pajama pants had no crotch in them so I had to wear two combined…

Then one day: “I’m not very good with girls…” you said.

Could have fooled me.

Once I moved away, things became different. How we hold on so strongly to something that sometimes doesn’t even seem tangible is beyond me. Yet you are here for me, in every way you can possibly be.

Ryan, you are my most favourite person in the world. I could sit with you and hold your hand and look into those pretty eyes of yours for the rest of my life, and be happy.

Is 21 too young to be making “forever” decisions? Perhaps, some would say. I’ll tell you right now, wherever this great adventure of life leads you I want to walk with you, if you’ll let me.

I love you, Ryan. With all my heart.

Thank you for being with me. For giving so much. For loving me back.

~Came but for friendship, and took away love.~

- Thomas Moore –

I especially like how I'm so romantic I had to put in the part about the pajamas with the ripped crotches.

(Don't even ask why they are ripped...I never asked either, I just didn't want to know...)

*sigh*

However!

I found ANOTHER letter today, this one written by hand, to the boyfriend before Ryan. Let's compare, shall we?

Dear Alex.

You drive me crazy. And sometimes not in the good way.

I miss ya too.

Also, I'm not sure if you should come visit next weekend, I'm pretty busy. Maybe the week after that?

Take care!

fireflea

Wow.

Hey, at least I'm showing some improvement!