A Letter that Arrives in the Midst of Turbulence

DEAR Boy,

Your inability to admit what we both already know to be true is frustrating. There's no reason to try and conceal what's so obvious when you've already failed in hiding your "private" information. You're not concealing anything. I guessed your so-called secret as soon as you were aware of it yourself---maybe before you even realized what it was.

Confused? Well, if this letter is too cryptic, if what I'm writing doesn't make any sense to you, then all the better. Perhaps the more I confuse you with flowery sentences that essentially lead nowhere, the more your mind will start to wander. I'll start filling your head with everything from images of broken soda bottles in back alleyways to the sight of a wilting mouse as it issues its final pant on the plane of a trap. Soon peace signs, crumpled fast-food napkins, ink stains, and dirty cowboy boots will pile so high in your brain that you'll have no space for logical workings. You will understand one thing and one thing only: that you love me. That fact alone will glitter in the fog.

Deny it now. You have for months already. But you can't even look at me without a sigh growing in your eyes. You can't sit in my presence for more than a minute without touching me, however lightly that may be. Sometimes it's just a brush of your hand against mine---accidental, you would assure me, yet I'm too wise for that. I've known men before you. Nothing is ever a coincidence with your kind. Everything is planned, although not always carefully executed. That touch was just as intended as that admiring perusal of my hair, my skin, and other parts that are too predictable to mention. But it's not only the physical parts of me that you admire. It's my personality, isn't it? It must be. If you weren't so attached to my character, you'd pursue another pretty girl, someone even prettier than I am perhaps. Obviously you chose me for another reason. And obviously you remain with me for an even more important one.

Think about it for a while, if not longer: shouldn't you tell me already? After all, lies have limited life spans and I deserve the truth. We both do. Life should not be lived fictitiously.

Not being forceful,

Girl