Letter and Reply 27
Wednesday, December 3rd and Thursday, December 4th, 2003
Letter and Reply 27
Delivered at 2:11 pm, Wednesday, December 3rd.
Dear Billy,
If bliss is a sickness, then, yes, your pie made me quite ill.
On the other hand, (now that we’re squared away health-wise), how are you doing? I can’t believe it’s already this far into December. I’m pretty excited, actually. I’m not usually this way. Something about the weather perhaps? Or maybe you’ve noticed how much I care for you and how I’m looking forward to Christmas Eve. The idea of that day being so close now is really both exciting and a bit nerve-wracking to tell you the truth. I want to have you in my arms so badly...but getting there is the problem. I’m just very, very nervous right now, and I think I’m only going to get worse as time passes. But don’t worry – it’s a good sort of nervous. I just need time to think about things; you know, special kinds of things that I can’t really tell you about just yet.
In the meantime, you should have your hands full with sugar-induced children. I’m going to try to assure myself that you won’t be driven up the walls these next two weeks, or wind up tying kids to chairs. Maybe you should limit the candy to two servings a day instead of fifty. After all, it’s not as if they go home and eat a bowl of fruit. No. You know they’ve got more candy stashed away somewhere.
In other words, just try to be careful, love.
You shouldn’t boast too much about the pillow-fighting, you know. After I beat you at the puddles you won’t be nearly so enthusiastic. Then we’ll have a tickling contest, and I’ll discover that you’re devastatingly ticklish, and I’ll come out on top of that one as well. Then we’ll have a kissing contest, and I’ll cheer you on.
If you are going to turn your house into a bakery this Christmas, I won’t be the one to stop you. I can’t resist sweets anyway, especially yours. Just don’t work yourself too hard, and keep in mind that once I get into that kitchen, your baking days are over. (But I’ll still let you lick the beater).
As much as I think Dom would love toting you around in his mailbag, I don’t think it’s exactly postal protocol to do so. I’d love to find you in my stack of mail, Billy, I really would, but I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait until the 24th. Very sorry, love.
Replies:
1. What’s the fun of an Every Flavour Night if you don’t try every kind of ice cream there is at once? The bigger the stomach ache, the more fun you know you had!
2. I’ll put sticky notes everywhere, don’t worry. You’ll be pulling them out of the sofa cushions for weeks.
3. If I don’t end up making you into a parcel, can I at least put a bow on your top so I can pretend you’re my present?
4. I do not have an ounce of photographic talent. The lovely subjects of the photos are what make my pictures worth taking at all.
5. Aw, my Valentine...
6. Hm. I never knew snowflakes had a ripening date. You’ll have to teach me how to pick the best ones.
7. I think I know a few remedies for warming up cold skin after a long snow battle... They’re also the same methods I use to make the rest of the world quite cold and jealous.
8. I’ll slip my affection over you, once I’ve made it snow, and you’re looking infatuated with it and smiling.
I have twenty-one days to find my way into your arms. In twenty-one days I may know what your kiss is like, what you feel like, smell like, and move like. I want to know what your dreams are and every one of your thoughts, and I want to ask you myself, without feeling so nervous. I keep questioning myself; asking myself if I can really do it. I wonder if, in twenty-one days, I’ll be able to speak. Or will I just take you, like it was in my dream, and just have you without warning. I wonder if you’ll want me at all sometimes. I get so afraid and so, so happy, but inevitably I know it’s coming. In twenty-one days it will just be me wanting you in the most desperate way I ever have.
I can’t believe that in the beginning I was only “someone who loved to see you.” All of this started with one simple letter, and now look how far it’s gone. Look how far we’ve come. I wouldn’t have believed, if you had told me at the start, that I would see you calling me “love” and making me feel that I was absolutely worth every word. I wouldn’t have believed that I would be writing to you like this. You wouldn’t have been able to assure me that that first letter wasn’t going to end up as another piece of rubbish in the trash. What did I do right in this? What was it that made you stay here, in this strange place, with me? Weren’t you afraid at all? I’m still afraid. I can’t know anything for sure until the end. And that’s why I want to hold you so much, to let you know exactly what I meant by “I want you at least as close as this.” If only for just an instant.
In twenty-one days.
With Every Pure Intention,
MS
Delivered at 6:09 pm, Thursday, December 4th
Dearest MS,
I hope I'm not a source of stress for you. Because I don't want to be. I care about you and you care about me, and there need be no worry involved. Just imagine me giving you a message to relieve that nervousness.
I'm not afraid anymore. I was at first, afraid of jumping into something so emotionally deep without committing myself to even a face. But I trust you, and I know you, and that's all that matters. I feel that Christmas Eve will bring only happiness to both of us. No matter what.
Doesn't make the wait go by quicker, though.
I can't wait to get out for winter break. I think I'm antsier than the children sometimes. The time off will be so welcome, when I don't have to worry about responsibilities but can just... relax, and think about the things I want to think about. How much time will you get off from work this holiday? And how much will you spend with me?
We've come so far, love, and I sometimes can't believe there was ever a time when you weren't in my life. How could I have ever been even remotely happy without this?
I'm counting the hours, the seconds until I will be complete.
Wholly yours,
Billy
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