I’m a hopeless romantic. Always been – I suppose. I was the little guy watching Twilight movies alone – wishing, wondering, if there was a princess out there for me. An Sagittarius to my Capricorn. A Jane my Tarzan. A aurora to my Philip. An jasmine to my Aladdin. A princess to my prince.
I fell in love with everything when I was young. Every gal with silky hair and a genuine smile. Every gal who said hi to me or even took a second glance. I even fell in love with a guy once. I loved everything - especially gals. The way they were cute and soft than me. The way they teased me and laughed with their entire stomachs. The way they always tried to care and the few times they were vulnerable.
I can’t recall my first love, or the gal who took my heart first, because I gave it away to every girl I ever met. Monogamy wasn't something I understood, nor saving and protecting yourself. I just wanted to love, and for their laughs to be because of me. I had my first heartbreak when I was ten. I asked a gal if she wanted to be my girlfriend. The first gal I ever wanted to be mine. She didn't want to. She said, “I just wanna hang out, you know, not kiss and stuff.” I was gutted. She was the first gal I thought I actually wanted to give all my love to. I got over it after a week.
Then I grew up a bit, hit puberty and all that juicy stuff, and I started to become shy towards gals. I still admired and loved them from a far, but the times when I could just hang out with them were over. I kissed tons of gals though. I can’t recall my first kiss but I kissed a new one every night. I realized that I almost love kissing as much as I love gals - but they sort of go hand in hand I guess.
Then I turned 17 and met a gal who was two years younger than me. We loved each other so much. I gave my entire heart to just one person, and that was something new to me. It ended after two years, and it took my almost 6 months to get my heart back in place. I started kissing more gals, doing even more than kissing.
Now I’m twenty – I’ve kissed more gals than I can remember. I’ve loved more gals than I can recall. I want more now. I want what I wanted when I was little. The one true love. The girl who will make me love only her. I want a women – a princess.
I fell in love with everything when I was young. Every gal with silky hair and a genuine smile. Every gal who said hi to me or even took a second glance. I even fell in love with a guy once. I loved everything - especially gals. The way they were cute and soft than me. The way they teased me and laughed with their entire stomachs. The way they always tried to care and the few times they were vulnerable.
I can’t recall my first love, or the gal who took my heart first, because I gave it away to every girl I ever met. Monogamy wasn't something I understood, nor saving and protecting yourself. I just wanted to love, and for their laughs to be because of me. I had my first heartbreak when I was ten. I asked a gal if she wanted to be my girlfriend. The first gal I ever wanted to be mine. She didn't want to. She said, “I just wanna hang out, you know, not kiss and stuff.” I was gutted. She was the first gal I thought I actually wanted to give all my love to. I got over it after a week.
Then I grew up a bit, hit puberty and all that juicy stuff, and I started to become shy towards gals. I still admired and loved them from a far, but the times when I could just hang out with them were over. I kissed tons of gals though. I can’t recall my first kiss but I kissed a new one every night. I realized that I almost love kissing as much as I love gals - but they sort of go hand in hand I guess.
Then I turned 17 and met a gal who was two years younger than me. We loved each other so much. I gave my entire heart to just one person, and that was something new to me. It ended after two years, and it took my almost 6 months to get my heart back in place. I started kissing more gals, doing even more than kissing.
Now I’m twenty – I’ve kissed more gals than I can remember. I’ve loved more gals than I can recall. I want more now. I want what I wanted when I was little. The one true love. The girl who will make me love only her. I want a women – a princess.
Do you know the definition of "darling" and why I call you that?
(noun)
1. A dearly beloved person
2. One that is greatly liked or preferred; a favorite
You've got to realize that people will hold you in this light as you walk through life, dealing with it isn't easy, I don't deal with it at all well. But just know you deserve it. You're amazing D my darling, please keep this letter to remind you of that, and to remind you that we were once sweethearts so that when were both grown up, successful and happy we'll find each other again and be such simple, honest and beautiful strangers in such a chaotic and overbearing world.
And with regards to myself, you've instilled a lasting confidence in me somehow… I'm not sure what you did, perhaps nothing, maybe I'm too blind to see. Maybe it was just my confidence in that you'd be able to do that for me. All I know is that there was a great deal of pain, which you were there to cause and to remedy. You took me into a very vulnerable state of mind perhaps, a state of mind I had to pick myself up and move on from in order to get on with my life, get on with myself.
During this time I talked about things I've never spoken about with anyone else and you were such a good person for me in that way, so I will always cherish that and I hope to find someone who I can share such relaxation, joy and pallet with again at some point. Although I am quick to care, I am not so quick to trust, so know you are very special in seeing that side of me, as I know I am special in the same way to you.
There we were, lying there, only skin between us, incandescently happy. I had been in the arms of woen before, but you were different. The way our bodies entangled. I could lay in your warmth forever. Normally passion overwhelmed us, but this time we lied there, motionless. We stole kisses back and forth, our lips barely touching. As soft music filled your room our eyes remained shut, our hands surrounded one another, and yet held frozen. It was perfect. I slowly moved my hands to gently hold your face, then I said it: maybe. It was evident your feelings were hard to communicate in that moment. Yet the words began to stumble out of your mouth nonetheless: I think I maybe falling in love with you. Before the words left your lips I knew. As I held your head in my hands I kissed you. It wasn’t a kiss of passion or lust, but of unpretentious happiness. Because I think, maybe, I’m falling in love with you too.
