Dear Perfect Man, (vol.s 1&2)

I want you to look at me as if you've never seen someone so amazing. You can see my soul, all the parts I wanted so desperately to give someone but never did. I want you to revel in my eyes, in their depth, to ask me to let you in. I want you to believe I'm all you'll ever need. Or want.

You need to hold my head, my heart, my hands with one glance. You need to tell me everything I never knew I needed to hear in that one lingering glance. I want you to not be able to be around me without needing to touch me -- some part of me, some soft brush of skin to feel the warmth of our glow. You'll touch my hip, squeeze my shoulder, wrap me up in your hugs, kiss my head and linger on my cheeks.

You won't forget to tell me you care, but you won't drown me in it, either. You'll be sweet even when you're making me laugh. You'll be sweet even when the world's making me cry. You'll remind me why all those lonely tears were worthwhile. All those achingly pillow-muffled sobs in this very room were worth you. Waiting on you made it worthwhile for me.

You'll constantly want to be near me, behold my heart, touch my hair, ask me to dazzle you with words and stories, travel with me, make plans. But you want me to be sad and troubled sometimes, too, and hold my hands when I want to thrash them at the world's inequities and injustices. You'll hold my hands when we go help.

You'll just love me for everything I've come to love about myself. You'll ask me to be better without asking me to change. You'll accept me for all the things I've learned to, struggled to, accept about myself.

And that's how we'll be, in love, happy, but still questioning and challenging each other. Smilling, laughing, poking, giggling. Loving. You and Me.

Still sincerely (& waitingly) yours,
Jen