My Dear,
Assume this to be the first of many letters as I attempt to put into words all I feel for you. It’s strange really to experience an emotion that is truly just a feeling. It is something you feel and that is all. There is no explanation, no words, no comparatives, but nevertheless, here I go.
Love is a series of emotional paradoxes that at first occur one after the other and then eventually intertwine into one scrambled, for lack of a better word, mess. Love is a mess and babe, if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been a mess. From the moment you said my name out loud, my mind has been a tangled web of happiness, fear, worry, and a childlike excitement that has made me want to do nothing but spin around in circles until I fall down on my back and watch the world spin around me wondering when it will stop. But it hasn’t stopped. You kiss my lips, and I’m spinning all over again.
Perhaps, you understand. Maybe that’s all there is to it. Love is understood. There can’t be love, not real love anyway, unless it is mutual. And I see it in you. It doesn’t need to be put into words. You understand exactly how I feel because you feel it too. I know this because you haven’t just said it to me, but you’ve showed it too. Without even meaning to, you show me you love me.
When I walk into your room and your eyes sparkle like there’s a sort of light inside of you that glows through. I know that it shines for me. Then the corners of your lips turn up. You can’t even help it and I think it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. It’s in that moment when your whole face lights up, always right at that moment I think, wow. All the other thoughts I had been thinking all day, how lucky I am and all the things I love about you freeze and it’s just wow.
When we play. When we banter and fool around and touch and giggle. Love is understood. It’s always being on the same level, whether that be a level of happiness, romance, frustration, sobriety, or five shots deep, you’re right there with me. Though if you think about it, love feels sort of like a constant intoxication. It’s a head spinning high, a giddy feeling of invincibility.
We fought last night and we weren’t on the same level. I raised my voice and you stared at me with a stone cold face waiting for me to finish. This wasn’t our first fight, but it was the first time you walked out. I’m sorry it escalated to that point and you felt like you couldn’t even be in my presence. I never expected anger to be one of the emotions thrown into the mix but it has. I’m angry at myself mostly. I feel stupid for not being able to talk about this problem rationally. Why do I yell? Why is my anger so uncontrollable sometimes? I guess I have my own issues and flaws that could use some work, or maybe just a better understanding. You’ve always had a way of understanding me unlike anyone else. And I’ve never loved anyone more.
Our problems are worth resolving because there’s nothing better, more comforting, or satisfying than waking up on a Sunday morning with you in my arms and on my mind is the prospect of going on a walk to get some breakfast, reading the Sunday paper, or even just spending the afternoon in bed. It feels like the world is ours and any time spent with you, no matter what we’re doing, is always the best time of my life. I’m sure you understand that because it’s love.
Call me after you read this. I miss your voice.
All my love,
Jodi
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