10
February 2003
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Dear You - Yeah, you. He who is, as of now, faceless, nameless and maybe even possibly nonexistent. First of all, what took you so long? Did you get stuck in traffic? Miss your flight? Have a long day at the office? That's okay, dear. Here's a drink. I only have light beer, sorry about that. I'll restock now that you're finally here. Go ahead, put your feet up. I hate to be so cliché as to quote a character from Sex and The City, but so often I think of Charlotte and how she whined "I've been dating for fifteen years! Where IS he?" Of course I haven't been dating for quite that long, late bloomer and all, but sometimes it feels like it. There have been tall guys and nice guys. Bad boys and boys who made me pay for everything. There have been stolen kisses on golf courses and romantic embraces as the sun rose. But there hasn't been you. I don't have a stellar Vday history, I mean last year I got dumped, so you don't have to worry about outdoing someone. You can even do the basic candy hearts and I'll be pleased. Except I don't eat them. Still, the thought and all. The thought will be even better if the sayings are silly and go beyond "U R Hot." Sometimes I think I'm lucky though, being on the dreaming side of you. You're still perfect in my eyes. You don't leave socks on the floor (but I do), you don't put half-empty Diet Coke cans back in the fridge. You don't forget to call or write. You never steal the remote or make me watch the NFL. But, and this is just between us, I'm getting a little sick of dreaming. I'd like to start doing. (I knew you'd have a dirty mind!) So hurry up - you can take the midnight train. The door will be open. Love, H
The notify writes love letters to ME.
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