Oh, my beautiful one!
This morning, you woke me up as you always do. I've never understood your capacity to start the day with such rapidity, but for six months now you have shed somnolence with just one specific swish of the second hand. At first, I found this frustrating, wanting to linger in sleep or slowly climb out of my foggy dreams. But now, this playful banter has become your chief charm, a bullet-point on my love-lists.
Everywhere, there are little signs of you: all about my car, inside my purse, hiding in my coat pockets. Since the moment we fell for each other, you have left tiny love-letters in my life. Most of these are inadvertently placed, but I can't help the way my limbs come alive with joy when I find them. (The blossoms on my bike, darling, were a lovely surprise.) You are filled with an altruism so genuine... It's as if you sense my quietest needs and then, with the dexterity of a symphony conductor, coax my desires from their hiding places and embody them before me.
Can you count the number of magnificent adventures we have shared? Surely, I cannot. As the sun goes down, you place your sturdy arm about my waist and I know something fantastic is about to unfold... The food, the drinks, the dancing... twisted all through with paintings and poems and street-singing love. I cannot help but sigh my joy to you every night, as we smile too hard and careen towards my porch.
Darling, I know you do not take my love for granted. You have never failed to reciprocate, in some fashion, the affection that I feel. You manifest in fog-free, starry rooftop nights to match my 24th Street music. You fill your arms with opportunities to match my twin thirsts for knowledge and sharing. You give me honesty, you give me chance, and, honey, you even let me wear black and brown together without a word.
I cannot imagine life without you now, though at first I tread towards you with reluctance. You've so many lovers... You've graced the pages of great literary works, you have been sung for decades, internationally. But after our first night together, when you were kind, and gentle, and modest... When you listened, rapt, to my own saga as if it were equal to your own... When you shared every ounce of yourself, willingly, and made visible your flaws...It was then that I knew we, my love, are meant to be.
My heart belongs to you, always -
The Most Amourous Receptionist