warm. lazy. dreary.

I have done absolutely nothing today my dear. I've been lying in this bed watching shitty television shows and thinking about all of the fucking that we're not doing.

Although fuck is one of my favorite words, you will always come before it.

(I don't think that sounded romantic at all but hey, we all have our off days.)

subtle.

And when you're not around my bones will miss your bones and the way they fit perfectly together.

My heart won't ache with you around.
I hope I can kiss whatever scars you may have, away.

sunday kind of love.

I will always love Sunday's and the fact that when I'm with you we won't ever want to get out of bed. We'll listen to Etta James and play uno while the sound of our childhood cartoons play in the background. I'll kiss your cheeks, eyelids, forehead, and lips and feel an overwhelming surge of contentment pass over me.

We'll live in our own little bubble and not have a care in the world. I'll tell you how much I love you and you'll smile and tell me that this is forever and I'll believe you.

everything could always be enough.

You need to know something about me: I tend to miss people a lot. There aren't really certain hours of the day where a tiny bit of uneasiness hits me and I start to think of people that have been left behind or still hold a part of my heart. It's just always there; always lingering and making the cold wind of winter that munch more sharp.

You don't really know how alone you are until you go to dial a number to see if they'd like to get a drink after work and realize you really have no one to call. And then there's that long drive back home where even Frank Sinatra can't perk your mood up with his sultry voice and clean lyrics.

I'm not sad though, even if it does sound like I am. I just have this longing type of soul for things I've never had and you, well, you will always be one of them.

wishful thinking.

There won't be anyone out there like you and you'll say the same thing about me. We'll dance and laugh and we'll use the fireplace any chance we can get. We'll make mistakes and move on and you'll tell me I'm lovely in the morning.

You'll always be able to make my heart beat fast and slow all at the same time.

And I'll be there for you through the worst of times and hold your hand even though you tell me you're okay.

Things will be beautiful and I will still love you in the morning.

restless. waiting.

I imagine that your eyes sparkle and your brow furrows when you're concentrating too hard. You also don't mind that your hands get wrinkly after being in the water too long and hair gel is only needed for the very special occasions.

I'm sorry if I sound whiny at times because I tend to complain about the simplest of things. But I promise to write you love notes and send you dirty texts while you're at work and I'll even let you use whipped cream in the bed room if you want.

This is new to me because it's not even nothing yet and I want you to be the one who calls me baby all of the time.

letter number three

I hope it's okay with you if I don't use so many words sometimes. We haven't even met and I'm beside myself on what I want to say to you.

I want you to explore Ireland with me one day. I want you to feel the love and friendliness that everyone shares. I want you to go red in the face after drinking too much Guinness and dance like an idiot because you know it'll make me laugh. I want us to hike cliffs and hold our breath once we get to the top because it's so fucking beautiful. I want you to get mud on your shoes and curse the heavens when you slip on some ice but you laugh it off anyways because we both know you looked absolutely ridiculous.

And in the morning after a night out on the town we'll mess up the sheets and you'll kiss me on my nose and wrap your legs around mine because your feet are always cold. We'll talk about the nights events and laugh in bed and I'll trace the curves of your chest and rest my head to where I can hear your heart beat.

I'll love you forever and I probably already do and you'll put up with my shoe fetish because you know how much I love them and you think they make my legs even better than they already are and you won't complain if I say too much when I'm drunk and I'll wrap my arms around your neck and pull you in and fall into you because it will always come so naturally.

I miss you. I've been missing you for a while now. It's been a long time since I've been in love and I've forgotten what it feels like. But as I write this to you, the you who has yet to stumble into my life, I can feel my stomach twist and turn and fall in love with the idea of something wonderful.

I feel like this is me own personal "missed connection" ad but to a stranger and I hope you respond soon.

because i'll be gone for four days.

I didn't mention that I would be out of town for a couple of days. Actually, I don't think I even mentioned where I'm living at this point in my life. I'll let you in on that secret a little later on. Although it's not really a secret at all, I'm sure I'm going to love to watch you squirm in your pants because that's what you do or I hope you do anyway.

I'm going to the land of kilts and whiskey. Did I tell you yet how much I love whiskey? It's the second best next to tequila and beer. I promise to never tell you no if you want to hang out in your underwear all day drinking beer and playing some kind of video/computer game. Who am I to take away the things that put a smile on your face and give you a sense of relief after a long work week? I also promise to never interfere during your "boys night" as long as you let me get shitty drunk during my "girls night" because you know I'll be coming home to you in the end.

You might be in Scotland waiting for me. Sitting in a pub strumming your guitar while your beard shines in the light. You'll wink at me and it'll take me a while to summon up the courage to say hello. But when I do it'll be amazing and natural and I'll never want to leave. I'm a dreamer if you haven't realized yet but I stand by my beliefs.

I'm writing this down now because I won't be able to get anything down before I leave. I just want you to know that I'm missing you already even though we haven't met yet. I hope that you're having a good weekend and hanging out with the guys, playing football or hitting on some chick you don't have a chance with because you know there's someone better out there for you.

You don't have to worry though okay? Even if some Scotish man makes me weak in the knees and I'm falling over myself because he's got a kilt on, he will never come close to comparing to you. How do I know you ask? Well, I just do and I'm sure that you know also.

P.s. Let's put having sex in an airplane bathroom on our list of things to do before we die.

the first of many.

I've written to you before. I had pages and pages of words dedicated to everything I know that you are. But they somehow all become misconstrued and nothing that is breathtakingly beautiful, even for you. Because I want my words to mean something. That when you read them you jump out of your skin and grab onto your heart because you're so afraid of losing it. 

I fear my dear, that I watch one to many movies. I have in it my head that this big love affair that we're one day going to have is going to be the most beautiful thing I have ever dreamed of. We'll meet on the train and you'll smile at me and I'll look around because you couldn't possibly be smiling at me. And then you'll glide over to me in that smooth way only you can pull off and say hello and I'll blush and want to hold your hand immediately. 

And then that will be it. Cupid would have finally struck and I would never look back because I finally found my penguin. Isn't that what people use as a metaphor when they find the love of their life? You know, because once a penguin finds the female penguin they're together forever? Have I lost you? Anyways, the point is, I have this image in my mind that everything will be beautiful and nothing could possibly fuck it up.

But this is life and it's me and nothing ever goes as smooth as I would like it. But with you, I don't think I want it to be smooth. I want it to be real and dirty and messy and passionate and cute. I want us to build an igloo and make s'mores and burn the marshmallows but eat them anyways because we wouldn't want to waste that gram crackery (I don't think this is a word but we're keeping it anyways) goodness. 

So since we should start this off right and since I know you're out there, somewhere, probably doing something great like cooking for the homeless or beating the 100th level in World of Warcraft, I should let you know that I absolutely love cheese. I like it fried, melted, cold, cheddar, gouda, brie, stinky, new, fatty, non fatty, any which way you could possibly imagine. And you bet your cute little ass we're going to have a drawer in our fridge dedicated to just cheese.

If you're still reading this, god I love you so much more than you could possibly imagine. And if you're not reading this then we have a serious problem and you aren't going to be getting any form of sex for a week. 

Life's tough.