Awash

My past week, in review:

Contemplative, after spending so very much time in your presence (not enough, gosh it is never enough…). Wishing I were better at talking to you. Wishing I remembered how to flirt. Wishing there was a place we could go where you could trap me in a conversation for as long as you wanted, as often as you wanted……… and that you wanted to do so, all the time. Awash with love for you. Wondering how you've been doing, what you've been up to, how your work is going, how your trip is going, when you'll be home, when I can talk to you again, when I can talk to you again, when I can talk to you again…

Meanwhile, I've been hornier than any human is probably meant to be for any length of time after getting to see so very much of you. Good lord, very nearly all of you…

I'd say not enough of you, but I mean…

Still, though.

Not enough of you.

So, yeah. That's my week. Contemplative, and horny as hell. It's… an interesting combination.

But it's led me to consider… why do I write these things for you? And, when I say “these things”… I mean letters like some of the ones this week, specifically.

You know the ones.

And, I mean… I'm not going to lie, I write them with the some hope that, when you finally get to read them…

Well, since we're being honest, part of my hope is that when you do eventually read them, your fingers start wandering towards some of that tiny part of you I haven't gotten to see yet, almost as if by their own accord…

I'm not allowed to touch you, but if you did the touching for me………………… ahem.

But what I really want, the primary reason I write them, the main thing I would want for you to take away from them, if I ever get to share them with you…

Is that I want for you to feel desired. To feel sexy. I want you to know how attractive you are. And, I mean… you must have some idea. You don't look like that and not. But you're so very sweet and humble, almost to the point of absurdity… and I just…

I don't know if you really understand.

You are beautiful.

You are sexy.

You are desirable.

You are desired.

And I want you to know it. Know it. Down to your bones.

So I write about the things your beauty does to me. I write about how very much I want you, desire you. I write about the experiences I want to share with you. The things I want to do with you. The things I want to do to you.

Oh goodness… so many things I want to do to you…

sigh

And, one day… when finally I can, I'll share them with you. So that you will know.

In the meantime, at the very least, I hope the way my eyes caress your every last curve every time I see you gives you some inkling, some vague idea of how truly beautiful you are. And, I know I need to be better about this, but… I hope the way I engage with you gives you some idea of just how amazing you are, and just how very much I value you in my life.

I love you, my love.

Yours, in everlasting adoration,
♒️