A Love Letter in the Time of Self-Isolation

I woke up, feeling unworthy and lost as usual. But then I received a love letter written at four in the morning:

Some days, like today, I find myself unable to sleep.

Maybe distracted, maybe not distracted enough.

I love you.

You are always so soft and warm, always so nice to be with. I always wanted more, more time with you. More of you.

Over time, I guess, that want turned to need. And now I am unable to wake without thinking of you.

You are my first thought of each day.

I guess the love I have for you is all-consuming and inevitable. No matter how hard I try to keep you off my mind, I fail and fall again deeper in love with you.

Now after busying myself with multiple trivial things, I find that my mind is tired, but yet not so tired. Just enough to still have you running through it. Over and over.

Yet somehow, just thinking of you restores this aching mind. I do not know if I have put you on a pedestal. Maybe I have. Maybe I have romanticized the idea of you. Maybe I have taken the essence of you and distilled it, removing you in the process. Or maybe I have not.

I used to think that I could change you to suit me better, to change your clothes or change your hair. But then I saw that I had no right to do so. All I could do was love you, and I am powerless otherwise.

This you I love is not perfect. It is no idealized or romanticized version of you. It is not just your essence, but it is you. It is you whom I love.

You were always so kind and loving, always looking out for others even at the cost of yourself. You’ve always valued others more than yourself. Yet somehow you still see yourself as selfish.

But I see you. I see how you are. Truthfully, you’ve been unconsciously lying to yourself, fooling yourself that you are less than who you are. And you are . . . beautiful.

You are kind. And gentle. And soft. And warm. And loving.

You are magnetic. An unceasing force of nature, captivating in ever sense.

I am truly enamoured by you, not because of anything else but because of you.

Some days, like today, I find myself unable to sleep.

Maybe distracted, maybe not distracted enough.

But always in love with you.

And maybe today started a little better than the previous ones.

Published by P. X. V.

I am a black hole in love, sharing how colorful the universe is.

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