Dear Karen,
if you’re reading this, it means I actually worked up the courage to mail it. So, good for me. You don’t know me very well but you get me started, I have a tendency to go on and on about how hard the writing is for me. But this… this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. I met someone. It was an accident. I wasn’t looking for it. I wasn’t on the make. It was a perfect storm. She said one thing. I said another. Next thing I knew, I wanted to spend the rest of my life in the middle of that conversation. Now there’s this feeling in my gut. She might be the one. She’s completely nuts, in a way that makes me smile - highly neurotic. A great deal of maintenance required. She is you, Karen. That’s the good news. The bad is that I don’t know how to be with you right now. And it scares the shit out of me. Because if I’m not with you right now, I have this feeling we’ll get lost out there. It’s a big, bad world full of twists and turns, and people have a way of blinking and missing the moment… the moment that could’ve changed everything. I don’t know what’s going on with us, and I can’t tell you why you should waste a leap of faith on the likes of me… but, damn, you smell good - like home. And you make excellent coffee. That’s got to count for something, right?
Call me.
At the end of the day, there are some things you just can’t help but talk about. Some things we just don’t want to hear, and some things we say because we can’t be silent any longer. Some things are more than what you say, they’re what you do. Some things you say cause there’s no other choice. Some things you keep to yourself. And not too often, but every now and then, some things simply speak for themselves.
- Ti faccio notare che abbiamo girato tutto il sabato pomeriggio per negozi di scarpe. Potevi comprartene dieci paia, di ciabatte.
- Eh, ma ieri non ci pensavo, avevo per la testa solo di comprarmi la borsa che volevo, quella che poi non ho comprato e che stamattina mi sono accorta che avevo già.
- Che potrebbe essere un po’ la storia della tua vita.