The Apple of My Eye

These Are the Days of Our Lives

Before Star left that Tuesday afternoon, I handed her a letter I had written in the very first hours of the previous day, before we went to the hotel and ended up spending the night at each other's throats and subsequently crying and all that drama ensued. I asked her not to read the letter until she was sitting in the plane. Here's what it said.

It's been a long, long time since I last wrote a letter to anyone. Not an email, a note, a report, or anything like that. A real letter. Like this one I'm writing you now. A letter that had to be written by hand, not printed or typed, because that's the only way it makes sense to me.

Star, I want you to know I never planned for things to turn out this way. I never even dreamed I'd be able to so much as touch you someday. Now look what happened. Look where we stand. Look what you've done to me. Look inside you heart, and ask yourself how you're feeling. How long has it been? Not that long, right? Certainly not long enough for me to be feeling this way, so irreversibly in love with the girl who kicked me out of the reception, with the world's sweetest voice. The same girl who accused me of not liking her, not being able to look her in the eye, avoiding her, avoiding circumstances that required us to talk to one another, avoiding any sort of contact.

I love you, Star. Not in the manner a friend loves another, although you've become my best friend, too. And not like those who are infatuated and blinded by the enthusiasm of the first few days—though I suspect that's how most would classify these words of mine. I simply love you. Very simply. Very truly. Like I can't explain with words.

And this love has transformed my life in such a way that there's no turning back now. I can't just pretend that none of this has happened and that everything will go back to the way it once was. We've been through too much already, we've been chastised enough, and not even that has weakened our love. On the contrary: despite all the adversity, all of those against us, all the warnings, our love has grown, our longing for each other has multiplied. We've been made to hear horrible things about us, things that drag our sincerity and  our character in the gutter. The very nature of our love was not taken into consideration by the many who oppose us, but deemed inexistent, deemed the fruit of malice, of machinations, an evil plan of some sort.

I never wanted you because you seemed impossible, unattainable. Nor because it was a huge challenge. Not at all. But it didn't take long for me to realize, as I got to know you, that you possessed all the qualities and attributes I'd been looking for in a woman. There is no one like you, that's for sure. You're singular. You're unique. You're extraordinary. You're beautiful from all perspectives, all angles, all possible interpretations. Your smile—I just love your smile. I love the way you look at me. You take me places I never thought possible just by looking at me. And I love your voice. Oh how I melt at your slightest touch, Star.

I couldn't stand being near you and not being able to hold you, to touch you, to kiss you. I looked in your eyes and had no doubt that's what I wanted. (And I could see the same longing in your eyes.) I couldn't stand having to talk to you and yet not being able to tell you how wonderful I thought you were, how good you made me feel, without the smallest amount of effort. Just by being there. Just by being.

I've never felt this way before, Star. Mark my words: I have never felt this way before. And I am content, and I am proud of the man I have become because of this feeling. You told me last Saturday that the first time I held you you knew there was a longing, an uncommon desire in that embrace. It's true. That's exactly what it was. I wanted you so bad, I had anticipated that hug, that first touch, so much, that when it happened, I did not want to have to disguise how much I wanted you. And I held you so tight, so tenderly, like it was the first and the last embrace—and in my mind it really was. After that day, I had no eyes and no tolerance for anyone else. No one on the face of the earth would ever interest me again. No one would ever make me feel that way again. Only you, Star. Only you.