Dear ******,
I think everyone wanders around life in little colored glass bubbles,
bubbles which offer a rainbow of ideas and perceptions on the inside, but
which show what else there is very poorly. People don't want to leave this
bubble, because it's they know what's inside. They know all the little
nuances, the way the light makes the colors swirl, but they're afraid to go
outside. They don't know what the light looks like on a single rose, how
is refracts through falling rain, what it illuminates from the face of an
angel.
I've done a great job of hiding in my bubble. I've learned so much about
it, I can recreate it in my sleep, working with nothing. But to live in
that bubble is to live forever alone, not letting anyone deep enough inside
to really know me. The couple of times I've tried to go without it, I've
been hurt. But those times I've also seen real beauty, beauty that I know
exists elsewhere, places that I've never dared to look before.
Since I've known you, I've thought about leaving my bubble again, and
tried to drop it, but every time I do, something seems (to me at least) to
go wrong. I've tried to be very careful, not rush things with us, to go as
slowly as you seemed to want me to. But, because of that, I wound up not
knowing what you wanted, and confusing myself, and when I told you that,
you were hurt; that was the last thing I wanted.
I've also forgotten what I did want. Somehow, in the craziness of trying
to see you, I'd left behind what I wanted. Briefly, I want a chance. I
want the chance to find peace in your eyes. I want the chance to hold your
hand in the park, to stroll under a peaceful moon, to share a quiet meal
and a chance to laugh. I want the chance to leave my bubble again, and to
let you inside. I want to laugh with you and cry with you and look at the
stars with you. I want to know what you think, and for you to know what I
think. I want to share your feelings and fears and regrets and joys, and
for you to share mine.
I don't know what the future holds; it always seems to have some idea of
what it wants, and we always seem to be caught in it, but sometimes we can
control it, too. And that's what I really want; I want some control. I
want to hold this chance before it goes away. I want the chance to love
you. Please give me that chance.