la jeune amoureuse

My downfall very well might be that I write letters. I write letters to people who never write back, to my grandma who always writes back, to strangers who will never get them because the letters are written only in my head.
I write letters to explain things, to justify my often times outlandish behavior, to say hello, to tell you how much I once loved you.
And my mistake is that these letters often put me in predicaments because I am sometimes crazy enough to affix a stamp and an address on the envelopes and to drop them down the black abyss that is the big blue mail box on the sidewalk. And then I think, oh shit.

But it was just past one a.m. and I was talking to a boy I once knew very well and I was laughing and smiling and damn, it felt so good to feel like that with him again, even if it wasn’t the same and probably never would be.
When I looked down at the mug of green tea I was holding, the fortune on the tea tag said, “When the heart is at ease, the body is healthy.”
So I wrote a letter because the day is special. And three years ago it was special and I might be naïve enough to believe that some of the special-ness still hadn’t worn off. Before I knew it, I was crying. Crying like I hadn’t for months and months but not from sadness this time, from contentment; from peace. I am happy. I am hopeful.

I am happy you came into my life and I am hopeful that you will never leave it.
(and I am definitely silly enough to write you a letter attempting to explain this.)

They say everyman goes blind in his heart
They say everybody steals somebody's heart away
And I've been wondering why you let me down
And I've been taking it all for granted