Dearest Rocky,
It seems silly that I'm writing this letter to you. Silly because you're sleeping next to me right now. Silly because I could just tell you in the morning what I'm about to say now. But the thing is, I know it'll come out all fumbled up and imperfect if I say it out loud. You know that I can't ever get my words out right when I'm nervous. And jeez, I'm nervous. I'm going out of my mind here, yet you sleep peacefully next to me.
I won't be able to sleep if I don't get this off of my chest.
Since I'm writing this all out, I can start from the beginning. That's another thing about writing it – you'll get the full story and not just the ending. Well, it's not the ending. Hopefully it's the beginning, but we'll get there.
A lot of the time, I wonder what you thought of me when we first met. I was a mess. A prime example of what I mentioned before, me not being able to speak coherently. My hair was tangled and pulled back clumsily. I broke my brush that morning. Did I ever tell you that? It's a small thing... It doesn't matter, really. But I remember everything about that day, down to the smallest details.
You had an eyelash on your cheek that I just wanted to reach up and brush away.
The smallest details.
I also remember that it was raining and that your jacket clung to your muscular body a little more than usual.
Our meeting had to have been fate. It was serendipitous. The world was working in our favor. You even told me you never go to that coffee shop, that it was your first time. It was fate that you picked my usual spot. You were in line right before me and you ordered, stepped aside while I ordered, and smiled politely when we made quick eye contact. I smiled back, of course.
It was fate that the barista was new. She didn't call out the name on the cup, only the order. That's how I found out you take your coffee the same way I did, because we both stepped forward and reached our hands out. "For Rocky," the barista clarified. "My mistake."
I was so embarrassed, my face must have been bright red. Was it? I've never heard this story from your point of view. I'd really love to sometime.
Any normal person would have just walked away from that awkward situation with a funny story to tell their friends later. You could've called me the crazy coffee lady for the rest of your life, harboring some inside joke.
I know now that you're no where near normal. I guess I learned that when you said your first ever words to me. "Your shirt is inside out."
How funny is that? The first words you ever spoke to me. Mine weren't any better, honestly.
"I know. I did that on purpose."
How stupid could I be?
We were perfect for each other.
The barista called me, by name this time proving that she learned from her mistake. I'm glad she made that mistake. "Y/N," she said and you raised your eyebrows. I took the cup from her and walked away, hoping to escape this situation. I just made a fool of myself in front of the most handsome man I'd ever met.
"Y/N," you said as you followed me. Thank you for following me. "It fits you."
When I looked up at you, I saw that twinkle in your eyes that I now know so well. That's when I saw the eyelash. That's when I first noticed how your smile is crooked. The first time I saw that smile, it changed my life. I've only ever seen you smile at me like that. "Rocky doesn't sound like a real name," I joked awkwardly and sipped my coffee, mostly to shut myself up.
I expected you to be offended. Why didn't my filter work that day? Any normal guy would have left then and there. But you weren't average. You're nowhere near average. "I get that a lot," you shrugged, "but I promise it's real." There was a lingering silence between us and I could hear your breathing. Was I imagining the unsteadiness of it? Were you nervous, too?
You shared your cab with me, insisting that it was the gentlemanly thing to do. You couldn't on good conscious leave a beautiful woman out in this rain. Beautiful. Good one.
That was the start, our first chapter and the story we hopefully tell our kids someday. Hah, kids. Don't get freaked out by that. If I were writing this in pencil, I probably would have erased that. I know we haven't even touched on that subject. Do you want kids? Ugh forget I asked that. In fact, I want to cross this section out.
Please disregard the above section. I'm a complete lunatic.
So that was how this all started. We exchanged numbers and texted nonstop until our first official date at the movies, then more until our second official date at that fancy diner on 5th Avenue. Can diners be fancy? That one was. It was so new and polished, I can't believe you liked me enough to take me there.
Fast forward a couple of months and here we are. You're in bed next to me and I can't get this off of my mind. I can't get you off of my mind.
You think I'm beautiful at my very worst. You help me when I feel helpless. There's no one else who has ever made me feel like this, and I want you to be the last. What I'm trying to say is... Here it goes. No going back.
Rocky Lynch – I love you.
I've never said those three words to anyone before, but you're worth it. I couldn't wait until you woke up to tell you.
It feels so good to get out there. I want to say it again.
I love you.
I love you.
I'm watching as your chest rises and falls steadily and I love you.
Your lips are parted just slightly and your eyelashes look so perfect resting against your cheek and I love you.
I can't wait for you to read this so I can say it out loud. I want you to hear it.
I just whispered it mostly to myself but I'm hoping you heard it.
So maybe this is silly and maybe I should just rip it up. People do that, you know? They write letters, spilling their inner most thoughts and just rip them up and toss them. It's supposed to be cathartic.
I'm just going to risk it and fold this up and tuck it next to your pillow. I know I'd regret it if I didn't.
Good night. Or morning I guess when you read this. I think I can finally go to bed now. But I'm going to say it one more time.
I love you.
Yours,
Y/N
P.S.
You just said, "give that watermelon to the cat, I'm allergic," in your sleep. What the Hell? I hope you remember what you were dreaming so you can fill me in later, because I'm doing my best not to wake you with my laughter.
