A letter to Love

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More stories from Lexi Puffer

A Farewell to Writing
December 26, 2019
My favorite stranger
November 22, 2019

Dear love, 

I seek you out in every grocery store, in every cup of coffee my lips touch. I look into a stranger’s eyes and see a future, a white gown and a picket fence. I find you very rarely, in the pockets of my ripped blue jeans and the ache in my heart. I lay myself in fields of flowers and picnics, hoping you will see me and the heart of gold I wish to share with another. 

I respect you even as I lie in bed grabbing at my throbbing heartache through my chest. Through rainy windows, I see a euphoric future of dancing in the rain with a red umbrella — chasing the thought of you through the dew of the morning grass at sunrise. 

You are the reason for every breath I take; I surrender to your euphoric feeling of overwhelming kindness and warmth. Glancing in your direction I view a future full of milkshakes at midnight and childlike laughter. I go to every creek and corner to find an essence of a clue to find you. 

 

Until I realized: you don’t want me to find you. You hide from me. I take what I think you are and mess it all up. Finding the wrong people to love, and shattering the best parts of my self to adapt to the person I think loves me. I jump off cliffs and expect you to catch me as I fall, as you try to tell me to wait for a parachute to come. By the time you find someone for me, I’ve already molded myself to someone I don’t belong with. 

I take what I think you are and mess it all up. Finding the wrong people to love, and shattering the best parts of my self to adapt to the person I think loves me.”

And love, I’m so sorry for that, I’m sorry for manipulating your image to try and make myself happy. I took what you are and made you out to be a monster, destroying civilization and blaming you for the demolished home that is my heart. 

 

Deep within my chest, I know you forgive me. I know that you need time, and that I need time to heal. I’ll wait for your parachute, and I’ll wait patiently, sipping my coffee and playing with the sleeve on the cup, avoiding the potential options and curious gazes of strangers. Until that special day when you’ve decided the clock has ticked long enough and the wounds have healed and you give me the best gift I will ever receive: true love.