Letters to: Danny

I quite like this format of writing little letters to my surroundings. As someone who struggles to tap into her emotions on a face-to-face level, this feels like a stress-free method of showing my appreciation. It’s strange isn’t it, how even the shyest of us find ourselves turning to the side to face the audience and voicing our soliloquys as if our fellow actors and recipient of our words can’t hear. Like you’re cupping the side of your mouth with your hand; it’s easier to say these words to a screen, through a keyboard, rather than to a face, with your voice. Let’s call it the modern interpretation of old-fashioned love letters, pouring out your heart onto the length of a piece of paper to give these captured feelings a sense of permanence. Is the verbal format not convincing enough anymore, or long-lasting? Do I need validation from outsiders that my relationship is at the very least, adequately staged? I hope not! I genuinely just want to share how much I appreciate various aspects of my life, as I don’t feel like I do it enough. I want to pick out these moments of happiness and lay them out on a crisp white bedsheet. This is a format that I find comfortable to work with. So if you can bear this level of schmaltz, then here are a few letters to a man I’ve known for four years.

Dear Danny,

First things first, thank you for letting me stay over many years ago when I drank half a bottle of JD at your flat and passed out on the sofa. Shall we have another round of the Game of Thrones drinking game for old times’ sake?

The bounding. Every now and then when I’m getting on with studying and stressing a little, you will bound into the room and give me a kiss, joyfully announce “STUDY KISSES!” then bounce out of the room and back to your business. You are a happy kangaroo, and it’s genuinely the sweetest little thing. People introduced you to me as a grumpy sort of fellow…I’m definitely getting more of a Tigger vibe.

Your nest. For messy folk like ourselves, our sofa nests usually reveal a lot about our characters. Your nest tends to consist of: Several blankets, including a Deadpool one and a Broncos one, your tablet, your Xbox controller, two pillows, a comic book, many crumbs, a few coffee-stained mugs, often a miniature sword, and a salt and pepper shaker.

The Gaming Face. I tell you it’s adorable, you do not accept it. It starts off kind of soft and mildly concentrated, then you start to bite your lip intently, then once you assemble yourself cross-legged and leaned forward, then it is ON, and the mouth opens in mesmerised determination.

Surprises. I can’t count the number of times you’ve surprised me with something incredibly thoughtful. When I ask you why you’re so bloody lovely, you usually shrug and simply say “I’m not, I just want to do these things. Everyone should want to do these kind of things for people.”

The little brown fleck in your eye. I do suspect it’s the source of all your powers. In the Summer, it looks orange on a clear day. With your long hair and slender figure, there is definitely a touch of Elven in your bloodstream.

Puzzles. A natural problem-solver, it’s bloody brilliant to watch the cogs whirring behind your eyes as you get stuck into something tricky.  I believe you can do anything, and it’s so comforting to see you draw energy from these accomplishments.

I am overwhelmed by your constant support. I don’t expect it, or anticipate it, it just happens, and  you never make it seem like a chore to do. Thank you for organising all of our bills and outgoings, and for finding us our new home, and for picking up extra shifts for me at work when I’m struggling for cash. Thank you for making me smile even when I’m at my most anxious and strained (it’s a lot.) You listen to my nonsensical rants and offer solutions no matter how ridiculous I’m being, or breathless I become. I feel like you’re this wonderful solid mass that props me up when I’m slipping on a sheet of ice, and I appreciate it so damn much, I really hope you know that.

 

Your Rosie

x

(AND YOUR SKIN IS ALL SOFT AND FUZZY LIKE A PEACH ESPECIALLY YOUR BUTT THE END.)

 

 

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