My dearest of darlings, my only true love, my angel, my beauty, my flower, sun of life, my Angelique,
As I am writing those very words, I feel a thin breeze in my hair.
The starlit night is lighting the parchment and ink, and my head is clear of all thoughts but those I wish to tell you. Thoughts of fear and of love.
To start off, I need to be honest with you, I will tell you something I wish you did not have to learn.
I am afraid.
I wish you could only see me as a courageous gentleman, as a knight in shining armor, as your prince, as someone worthy to be in your presence and kiss your porcelain hands… But you must know that I am neither of those things. I have never been any of them, even whan I tried. So I stopped trying to be who I am not and started to be who you wanted me to be. I started telling you the truth.
I am afraid.
I am not afraid of death.
The man who fears death is foolish, and he should fear himself more than the end of his life. He should not fear death and, instead, fear the distance it would impose from those he loves.
No. I am honest in saying that I do not fear it.
But what I fear is leaving you.
Yes. What I fear is being far away from your beautiful eyes and your glistening white skin. I fear being far from your silky hair, your gentle voice, your marvelous face. I fear not being able to touch your hands and hold them in the dark, when the night is not as bright as it is now, when we hide in the olive tree and kiss like we have never kissed before.
I fear that too.
Never again seeing the olive trees and the land I left. I fear never seeing my widowed mother, my sisters, my brothers, my cousins… You. Not coming back to my roots, my town. Not coming back to the places I know; where cheese and wine smell like a piece of heaven dropped for the mortal’s enjoyment.
I fear not smelling that : the cheese, the wine, the olive trees, ever again. That smell we know so well, of waking up in the trees with the sun, the sweet light making everything around turn to gold. That is something I miss. It is the beauty of my land. The marvel the world has to offer me.
I know now that I was foolish to leave. I have learned a lot, and I have travelled more. I learned that everyone thinks that the land they come from has the best food, the most delicious wine, the most exquisites of views, the prettiest woman… I also learned that my land had all those things. And even if I were to doubt them, the one I know is that my land, my home has the prettiest woman, waiting for me.
She reads every day the letters I sent and thinks of me when she walks among the olive trees. When I come back from my travels, if I do so one day, I will marry her and we will plant olive trees, travel, make the best of wines, and see the most exquisite views.
Yes, I know you have been waiting for me. I will never forget you.
But what I fear above all, above god, above losing you, above not seeing my land…
What I fear is that when I come back, you will love another.
I know that it will not happen. When I read your handwritten letters and think of you, I know you will never love anyone more than you love me. I believe you.
But sometimes, during nights just like this one, I think of you in the dark and thoughts fill my head, flying, fighting, winning, losing, scaring, like demons and angels. They come and go, and they leave traces of their passage. They leave ideas, good and bad.
Yes my love, I am irrational, but I fear all of those things.
Yes my love, I know you love me, but I still fear.
Yes my love, I fear being away from you.
And as I am not in your presence at this instant, I am melancholic. I am thinking of you, writing poems, loving the thoughts I am having, smelling the scent of your sweet perfumed scarf… I am like a poet with no words, like a painter with no colors, like a dancer hearing the music with no emotions, like a writer facing a blank page.
Yes my love, you are my life.
You are my everything.
You are what I want, what I wish, what I love.
You are so much more than all that I could ever dream off mixed in a gorgeous body.
You are so much more than that.
So, so, so, much more.
Words aren’t enough to tell you what I am feeling.
My heart is racing, my hands are sweating, my breath is getting faster, my eyes are filling up with tears. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Yes, I have always felt something so different when I look into your amazingly deep eyes. I want to hold you in my arms, take your delicate hands, protect you, love you, kiss you, help you. I want you to never suffer, never be sad, never be weighed down by all the troubles of this cruel world.
I cannot express all of this love. I simply cannot do so with only a letter as my tool. I want to show you, to sing, to dance, to kiss.
I am looking at the stars, like I do every night, and thinking of you.
I love you. More than you know.
I love you. And I know you do too.
I love you. And that love is all I need to exist.
I love you.
Dearly and deeply yours,