“One cannot know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being”. ~ John Joseph Powell
If you’re reading this, then that’s a good thing. It means that I got through 3,4 billion people to get to you (that’s the number of men in the world right now), it also means that you are not dead and hopefully I am not too.
I stay up at night. A lot. Creating stuff in my mind, putting some down on paper and sometimes reading what others have written. It is one of the things you will love about me. It may also be one of the things you will hate about me.
Tonight is one of those long nights.
3,4 billion people and my heart will choose you.
You will be Kenyan, probably Ghanian or Indonesian. You may be a Briton. Or a Frenchman with a strong accent that will sweep me off my feet. I can’t tell. But one thing I know, is that I will see you and I will know.
We will meet at your workplace. Maybe at mine. Or at a bookstore. Probably at an art museum. Perhaps …just perharps…in a loud night club.
I know though, that your passion will draw me to you before your looks do. It will burn right through your eyes into mine and our worlds will lock and spin for a moment. We will walk towards each other and we will make light conversation about the weather, or the play that will be done. And you will ask for my number. Maybe I will ask for yours because I’m a go-getter. And that will be the beginning of a lifetime of nightfall conversations.
You will not ask me for anything – not even sex.
We will have the strongest friendship. You will tell me your stories and I will tell you mine. We will watch sunsets together as we drink beer from one bottle and laugh at our days. We will sit in silence on rainy nights and listen to the sound of the storms. I will write and maybe, you will draw or paint. We will go on adventures together. I will help you face the heights and you will help me conquer the depths. Mel Gibson will be our soulmate and Braveheart will be the story of our life.
You will not beg me for anything. You will still not ask me for sex. You will not even mention it because you will know that will be the beginning of the end. You will play with my mind and my vision and every cell in my body will crave you.
You will learn that I’m weird and you will like me a little more. I will retreat into my little corner. A lot. You will need to hold me at night but I’ll be up. Creating stuff in my mind, putting some down on paper or reading what others have written. And you will not like me so much then.
But I am such a cuddler and you will love it. You will wake up to cuddling a lot. We will cook together. Good food, burnt food, foreign recipes – we will get through all of it. Like a game of Chess you will be the King and I will be the Queen – I will faithfully protect you. You will be my fortress and I will lean on you more times than necessary because I’m a sentimental mess. Your beautiful sentimental mess. I will start saying things you say and you will start saying things I say. Tequila will be our friend when we need one and I will be your venting machine. You will walk into mistakes, a lot, and I will wait for you on the other end. I will make mine too and you won’t like it but you will love me through it. We will visit your people. They will not like my short dress, or my opinionated nature but they will know you have found a good thing.
We will move in together and fight over closet space and bookshelves and plants. But we will always meet each other halfway. We will get a cat, maybe a dog, but later we will give them out and make a baby.
You will give me your name and I will give you my life. We will fight a lot, both loud and silent wars. But you will not hurt me and I will not hurt you because my heart will be yours and yours will be mine.
You will challenge me. You will push me to the wall. You will test my limits. You will play with my mind. You will drive me insane. You will make me accomplish my purpose and then you will do a rerun. You will put your life on the line for me. You will stand in the sun and let me rest on your shadow. You will walk on needles and you will cross deserts.
I will adore you. Strongly, deeply and madly. I will support you. I will pray for you. I will kiss you every chance I get. I love hoodies and I will make several with your name like a dork. I have very warm hands and I will hold yours when it’s cold. I will drive around with you aimlessly and we will eat as much chicken as you like. I will fight your battles. And I will name every scar after you. I will call you everyday. I will miss you every second. I will love you to insanity. I will be obsessed with you in an almost unhealth way. My one in a 3,4 billion people.
You will carry my soul and I will carry yours. And when death strikes, half of us will be gone, but we will still be there.
But before your workplace, or mine. The bookstore, or the art museum; I hope I don’t meet you soon. I am currently lost. I am trying to find myself. I hope you are too. Don’t come to me incomplete because I will not be able to help you. Find yourself now.
I have a lot to learn and if we meet now I will probably hurt you. I have demons to kill and skeletons to bury. I break everything I hold, so you have to be unbreakable. You are human. With flesh, blood, feelings and emotions. You are breakable. You cannot be the toughest diamond. And I don’t want to break you now because I will break everything.
So just like me, shrug at all the frogs you kiss, put up with the bad sex, endure the loneliness, thrive in the solitude, learn all you can, explore wherever you can, be whoever you want. Walk in your truth.
One day we will meet. At your workplace. Maybe at mine. Probably at a bookstore, or at an art museum. Our worlds will lock and spin for a moment. You will ask for my number. Maybe I will ask for yours because I am a go-getter.
And that will be the beginning of something beautiful.