1–50–800, My Love!
This is not a phone number; it is the summary of our relation
It was last year, in March. Unforgettable!
I had for a long time had an eye on you but didn’t dare to approach you. What if you would reject me and destroy my dream?
But one day, I pulled myself together and asked you.
When I first saw you
You were different, that was clear. But in a good way. Distancing the others by miles, being unique and almost divine.
And you knew it. You knew how special you were, knew how you could easily reject anyone approaching you and wait for the right one to show up.
Your intensity was unmatched, your exclusivity a minimalist enigma. Who would be the right match for you, who would you choose? And when would you be ready?
Fantasy
Of course, I would have no chance with you. You wouldn’t even notice my existence. You were dating the big guys, not such a zero like me. You preferred the long and intense stories, told professionally by experts. You wanted everything to be perfect, nothing less than that could be accepted.
You wanted to be seduced by the experienced lovers only, and you knew how to attract them — by playing exclusive to the max.
And there I was. Just watching the others, the professionals, be allowed to get close to you and be with you. Some of them you even talked about as fantastic and top class.
And I could only fantasize, only fool myself into a dream of us. Pretend in my pure imagination that we would be a couple, that you would smile at me every day, show me a bit of appreciation in return for my devotion to you.
A first step
You didn’t notice, but I did approach you several years ago. I wanted to be close to you, so I could watch you, see how you developed from the ever searching and overly quality obsessed young lady into a mature woman, who now knew about life and what was to be expected, and how it all consists of sharing, not taking. How a relationship must be built on mutual trust and respect, on unlimited appreciation of reality, of the real treats, not the imagined perfection.
I joined the inner circles around you, to be close. And I never said anything to you, so you never noticed me. And how could you when I hardly existed, when I never did anything at all to show my value to you.
Getting serious
1 year ago. The first measure to notice in this little summary of our love affair.
We have our anniversary this month, my darling!
The first year has been so intense, since, that day in March last year, finally, with my heart in the throat, palms sweating, feeling like I was about to die — I went to ask you if you would want to see me around. If I could become one of your lovers.
And you said yes!
Huh! How happy can a boy be! So happy that I didn’t believe it was true and I needed a couple of more months until I went back to you with my first love letter.
Everyday appears
Our relation has now become routine. I do enjoy it every day, but I am no longer approaching you with my heart in the throat and sweating palms — I feel a bit closer to equal, you could say.
What I learned was that your other lovers are not as perfect as you liked to say, that you may have had standards of another world, but you are, in fact, very much down-on-earth, allowing for all kinds of people to be around you.
Had I only known before, then we could have had a much longer time together. But I am happy for now, happy that we are together.
50 love letters, or thereabout, it has become during our first year. You have received them eagerly and with a big smile, as you love to get them. From me as well as from your other lovers.
While you read them soon after receiving them, and you keep them in a special box, just for my letters — which I really appreciate — it doesn’t look like you ever take anything out of that box to read it again. But I suppose you just have a good memory. This, of course, along with being busy reading the letters from all your other lovers. I know that some of them write to you ten times a day. What an enthusiasm!
Finding my place in your life
800 of your other lovers have put my name on their list, making a note of where to find your little box of my love letters to you.
It is a bit odd, I must admit, but nice to know that my writing isn’t just ending up in a black hole in cyberspace, but actually will be noticed by some.
So here I am, one out of millions, one grain of sand on the beach, together with all the other grain enjoying life as a support for your sunbathing and enjoying that occasional smile you send to me — or us, as you can smile to many at the same time.
And all we grain, all your lovers in our imagination, can hope for that rare, special attention that you sometimes grant a single grain or two by telling about them to the other grain.
A dream, of course, but maybe we will one day be holding hands, like real lovers.
You are my dream, my lover, my Medium.
This was originally posted on Medium, on 2nd of March 2024, about a year after I had started writing there. It was meant to be funny.
Nice you got my attention