SAVE THE NEXT DANCE FOR ME

Why was I afraid of love; your love? We met while out dancing, and it was as if I had always known you. I felt your passion even then, and it only grew, yet somehow, I was afraid. Maybe it was because I had not long ended another relationship. Whatever the reason, I was not able to let myself fully love you then. I don't regret much, but if I could have done it again, I would have agreed to let you take that trip with me (remember?). Despite letting you go, I couldn't let go. We kept talking and seeing each other, and each time, I pulled back. Eventually, we each met other people and married them (in the same year). No passion. I wondered what I was doing there, yet I still did not understand what was missing from my life. We still talked, and each time I hung up missing you and wishing I could see you. I loved hearing you say my name, and hearing the smile in your voice when we spoke.

From the beginning until now, we had our special game - the language game. Both of us talking in a different language (neither English) and trying to have a heated conversation). "No, no, no…" "What are you trying to say?" It was such FUN! I could have talked like that until dawn, except that a kiss would eventually interrupt the game. A kiss that made my world completely stop, made me hear the waves of the ocean, and the beating of our hearts.

You told me you loved me once; it was just when I was about to embark upon a second relationship. You were (I thought) still involved. I never asked. I assumed I knew what was going on in your life. I should have asked. I could have stopped and asked. Instead, I cried, wiped my tears, and kept going, barreling down the path I was on without stopping to ask for directions. The path was dark and tortuous, yet I plodded along, thinking, "There must be light ahead soon". There wasn't.

All these years later, you are still my friend. You've been there through everything. For that, I am eternally grateful. However, is it too much now to ask for more? Is it too much to tell you I love you, that despite making some decisions along the way without asking you what you thought, what you felt, and how it affected you, that I've finally realized that my love for you won't go away? You resigned yourself to the reality that we would only be friends. Does it always have to be so?

If I could hear you say one thing, I would know that you hear me, that you still care, that it's not too late. So after you read this, the next time you see me, hold my hand, put your lips to my ear and whisper this: "Can I help you with your mambo?"---

the love letter collection