caffeine diary

Dear you (and not anyone in particular, but simply you),

At first I'll refuse to admit that I'm in love with you to anyone, not even myself, because you'll take me by surprise and render me speechless, unlike anyone else who's come before. You always are unique. You'll make me question everything I'd believed about myself, and yet you'll make perfect sense in the pattern of my existence.

Then once I've finally discussed it with the rest of the universe, I'll tell you that I love you, and I won't stop until I've run out of love to give you. I'll want to tell you everything about myself, all my secrets, all my hopes, all my one AM flights of fantasy and sometimes the inane and not-all-that-interesting daydreams of one in the afternoon. I won't be able to shut up about myself, and maybe you'll think I'm self-centered and unnaturally egoistic. But my life is the only gift I have to give you, and I'll give it to you till you're bored.

I'll want your life. I'll want the secrets of your heart to match mine, names, places, details, till I feel like a voyeur in your life. I want to be the recipient of secrets no one else knows, to be your best friend and favorite confidante, to share inside jokes and inside lives so that you know the names of all my teachers and I know the names of all yours and you recognize that it doesn't matter who or what I'm obsessed with today, only that I am sharing that obsession with you.

It will be the two of us against the world.

You're going to find out that I'm a masochist in the bedroom and that you can whip my heart with a well-placed blow, and you'll be tempted to hurt me just to see me fall in a swoon of delighted agony, to see me cry so that you can make it all better. Please don't hurt me. Despite what I say, I don't like to bleed anymore than you do.

You're going to discover that I'm really hopelessly shy, that I'm going to depend on you to be our voice for the world. You're going to have to count on me not wanting to go out when we could stay in, on preferring to let you do all the talking. And you're going to have to be prepared for moments when I've had too much caffeine and feel confident enough with you by me to talk and dance and tease and flirt outrageously, because I trust you enough to stop me before I do anything silly.

I'm going to be a jealous bitch, and I will hate all your other friends, unless you let me pry into them along with you, so that all our friends are shared friends. And I'm going to have other friends that are too precious, that I don't want you to know anything about, but if you ask me, I will crumble, and I will tell you, because I will be so flattered that you want to be privy to my life. I'll shake with anger when you kiss someone else, but I'll dream about kissing everyone I know, and I'll trust that it's okay, so long as I tell you everything.

I need you to keep your promises. I need you to call when you say you will, to share what you promised you would, to tell me the truth about everything. I'll feel betrayed if you're half an hour late to a party, but I won't give a damn who you sleep with, so long as you write erotic poetry about it that only I get to read.

Sometimes, I'll just want you to hold me. Sometimes, I'll want you to distract me from everything. Sometimes, I'll want to get away from it all and mud-wrestle with you or throw snowballs or wash dishes with you hanging around my waist. Sometimes I'll need to be alone and I'll leave without saying a word.

I'll expect you to understand.

Love,
me