Bookmark #885

How you move about your day with sublime grace and finesse I would dare not try to put into words, and yet, you asked if I could write you a note.

It was less of an ask, more of a demand, of course. As it should be, and it is a privilege to have been asked to do such a thing. Now, I could write a handwritten note, and I could scribble my words with the legibility of the terms on a crucial document where the slightest ambiguity would be a matter of life and death. I could do that and do it right. But I must insist that I am at my most honest when my fingers glide over this keyboard, over its keys with smudges of where I hit them the most and hit them often. I reckon you have to take my word for it. I bow in front of you and ask for this reservation.

For reasons beyond what I can possibly articulate, for all my obsession over finding the right word or two for every feeling and situation, lying to you, even in accident is out of the question. To do something as performative as writing a note in today’s world, when it is reduced to a message in a gift hamper sent overseas to a friend you have met twice, or stuck to the expensive paper bag with an even more expensive bottle of wine in it, is simply a risk I am not willing to take, not when it is about you. So, you must bear with me and take these words as best I can give them to you. And now, it is best I make good use of the lines left; yet, I wonder if I have already said the most essential parts.

To know you is a privilege, to laugh with you for hours on end is a delight, and to talk to you and tell you about the pointless ludicrous thoughts I have is a luxury. To be able to sometimes share even a minute with you makes me ecstatic, and to get to share the simple gift of a song with you is often the most important thing I do all day. Now, all of this may appear, as my words often do, like some self-indulgent, back-handed way of talking about myself, at first; it is but only about you. It is about you like how light is about the Sun; that it is cast on any of us is what makes us look up. But I wonder if you will have to take my honest word for it again. Come to think of it, it is the only thing I know to give.

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