Day 2: Letter To Your Crush

by pronounced "ahhh" like a sigh

Um… this is the weirdest letter I’ve ever written.  I had no idea that I was so stalker specific about people. Lord. I’m too pretty for jail.



Dear You,

I wish I could. I wish I could face you like the day and tell you what the promise of you does to my morning.  I think about your hands often. The way they gripped the water glass that first day we met. I sat in silence too nervous to eat. Afraid that the fork would feel foreign. Afraid that my fingers were too focused on easing across the table and touching yours. I tried to focus. To listen as you spoke about what, I’m not sure but in order to hear you, I had to watch your lips. The way your tongue danced in your mouth. I had to remember that soon you would ask me something and I had to be prepared to answer so I looked up and was confronted with your face. Those eyes. The perfectly placed nose. Your hair, jet black and glistening like you were fresh from the shower not your office. You asked me something, I answered. You threw your head back and laughed and all I could think was, “I need to make sure this man laughs more often.” I wracked my brain for a joke something else to send that sound across the table towards me. But I couldn’t. This was business.

I stared at my plate. Pushed the food around while you spoke. Looked up and focused on your chin when I needed to hear you. Then back at  my pate. Back to pushing this food. Back to wondering what your hand would feel like on the small of my back. Could almost feel the heat rise there as I imagined it. Lost in this, I missed your question. Looked up and was attacked by your smile. “Did you hear what I said?”, You asked.

I shook my head. No.

“I’m looking forward to working with you.”

I nodded. “me too.”

You paid the bill asked if I wanted to package my untouched plate of pasta. The waitress took my plate and returned it before I noticed it was gone. Then you stood. Offered me your hand. I couldn’t take it. Afraid that I would be unable to let it go. So I stood on my own. Acted like I didn’t see it. Forced a friendly smile. Hoped it didn’t say, “What does your mouth feel like?”

Outside, we parted ways. You said, “I’m looking forward to this.”

Me too.

One day, I’ll tell you about that day. How I remember every detail. How I had the urge to hug you good bye but remembered, this is strictly business. I nodded and walked away promising to email you some documents. I knew you were watching. I wish I didn’t know that. When I rounded the corner, I leaned against the shoe store and sighed. “wow”. Then shook it off.

This was business.

And could only lead to a beautiful disaster.

I wish I didn’t know that. I’m the kind of girl who sees the end before I see the path. And as lovely as this moment was, the end would crush us. And I couldn’t risk the thought of never seeing the hands or the mouth or the voice that sounded like only I could hear it. So I’ll say nothing. Not a word.