Dearest,
Somehow, I hope you are taking a little break from work at this time to read this. What are the chances you are online now?
When I woke up this morning, I was brightly smiling to your face. I knew you were the special one for me, even though that could have meant different things if one were to analyse it. I told you how I was ready to spend the rest of my life with you. You smiled with so much warmth in your eyes, I almost dropped a tear onto my pillow. Usually it’s my saliva that wets it when I sleep. But you never complain about my drooling, the way I never faulted you for snoring, both of us despite different head/neck positions we had tried. It’s just our queer romantic thing, I guess.
You then asked me what would happen to our love after our lives on earth.
I replied I did not know.
Really, who knows what comes next after? Who has gone and returned to tell us, and why should we believe him/her?
You then sweetly tugged at my warm succulent cheeks. The kind of cheeks a masculine man should not have. I swiftly beat your hands away, telling you sharply not to patronize me. I told you I knew what you would say next. You looked condescending as you smiled lovingly at me, telling me not to be presumptuous. Even now, I can hear you laughing sarcastically at me for judging your look as condescending. I retorted that I knew you would call me shallow. You would say I don’t usually analyse things properly. You would not exactly use the word “shallow”, but would every letter imply it. You act at times as though you understood everything. You had once told me it was just the way your countenance was, and that you really did not regard yourself as very knowledgeable or wise. You should know that your body gestures are important. I had often told you to look in the mirror as you practised your facial expressions. You can never become perfect at understanding or manipulating people if you could not understand yourself, or control your own expressions. Then you tell me that to be more romantic I had to learn to look at issues more closely and clearly. How do you do that! You are so amazing for managing to link intellectual wit with romance.
So, let us be clear.
We had a hot argument this morning because of what would happen to us after we died? Or because of what would happen to our love? Or because you wanted to romantic with words? Or because you wanted me to have given a better and more romantic answer –if only I had thought more deeply of course! Well, how about: “We will never die because God would never want a love like ours to end?” Or, “We would still continue our love in the next realm?” Well, you and I know that you’d sooner throw the second answer out as a painful cliché. You’d then pick on the first one, asking how God would break a core rule of mortality just for our sake. Then the discussion would still hit the rocks!
Am I looking at issues more closely now? Have I been right in my analysis so far? Am I smart enough for you to respect me now? Am I right enough to match your wit now? You know that in a twisted romantic way, I am fatally drawn to your mind?
Because I really need to. Somehow, I am convinced you are the one for me. And we have to be a complementary match.
Will you tell me something different now? Will you be warm towards me? Or will you tell me I have yet again totally misrepresented you, here in the face of the whole world this time?
Well, that would even be if you happen to be online now.
Fatally yours,
I Feel Shadows 