August 10, 2008

My dearest,

You are not quite used to this feeling. You’ve let all these years go by and still, there it is. That feeling. Like you’re a young boy again, as though you can spend a lifetime falling and tripping head over heels, and it’d be okay. You can’t imagine anything else you’d rather do. You’ve found a place where you can be who you are, truly.

You’ve found a place where you can be in love.

Is it silly to want to shout out your joy at the top of your lungs, announcing this perfect moment (this promise of more, many more such moments) to the whole world, sharing in your good fortune? Is it foolish to be this happy?

You want someone to tell you it is neither silly nor foolish, that you never have to come back down again, that you can remain in the clouds, your heart ready to burst from the perfect madness of it all. You have found no safer shore than this careless bliss. You pray this smile never leaves your lips nor that forever kiss that tastes like all the colors of the rainbow.

You’re high up in the heavens and you’re not afraid to fall.

 
Someone’s used a pocketknife and carved the word “Powderful” on the table top. It used to be a door, now reincarnated and painted white. The stains and scars show.

You’ve met the picture of perfection, the love of your life. Or simply a promise of that fantasy. You sit at the table and wonder, do you believe?

Be it a warm cup of plum wine or a chilled shot of pfirsch schnapps, you don’t mind. You sure are thirsty. There is something more you need to discover, something you don’t quite understand.

Do you need directions or do you need a destination?

Maybe you just need a path and to start walking.

The Yellow Brick Road’s waiting for you. Oz and the Land of Wonders. The other side of the Looking Glass, the other side of the Wardrobe. Never-Never-Land. Somewhere you will find all the colors of the rainbow. Some day you will find all your answers. Go on. Just make sure you strap on your ruby slippers first, or your Manolo Blahniks or your Jimmy Choos. Or maybe a pair of white Louis Vuitton sneakers.

You’re good to go.

Yours, ever and always.