It is almost midnight and I must confess this immediately. I must speak quickly so as to bare it all and leave nothing unsaid. I must tell someone and who better than a late night drifter. An insomniac. A night shift worker. An over thinker. A single mother. A married mother. A guilty heart breaker. A lonely heart breakee. Point is, thoughts are clearest closest to dawn and also judgment free.
Listen. Please. I have stumbled upon something magnificent. The culmination of 22 months and several days of brooding over imaginings and maybe he does like me or maybe he’s just nice or maybe he’s keeping his options open or maybe I’m his only one. Maybe he’s just as afraid as I am. Afraid of something bigger than rejection. More frightening. Acceptance? We aren’t equipped for fairytale lives. We cannot handle meet-cutes. The script we were given is plain and simple and says things like “love is hard” and “certain things only happen in the movies, sweetheart” so move along. It rambles rubbish like “He’s not waiting in a bookstore in the Classics aisle for you to walk over in search of something Cummings. He’s not sitting on a park bench looking for a passerby who instead of passing by, stays. He won’t stare at you from across the room until you both make your way over to one another and drown awkwardly.”
Oh, but what if he is? We’re so brain-soaked into believing we may never be truly happy that we settle for what is only satisfying. I want to be fuller than full. I want my heart to race. My palms to sweat. I want to live every cliche’ ever written or thought. I want to dance in the rain to no music and have him promise me the moon. I want the Notebook and Nottinghill. I want Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
So this, indirectly and very subliminally, is a letter to him. In hope that he might be a sleep-walker or like me, a late night stalker.
My dearest boy. Your fear is not unnoticed. I see it now and I welcome it. I, too am afraid of loves embrace. But is it not true there exists nothing stronger than fear?
(Megan Celeste Lucas 2014)