Jadene Drabble
I've been doing a lot of these huh.
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Dear Breasal, Breasal, Dear Breasal,
I don’t know how to start this letter, I haven’t tried writing a letter before, but I read that writing these things down can help with emotions and thoughts and things, so I thought I’d give it a try.
You’re great. I know that’s hard for you to understand, or maybe it isn’t, you have a lot of confidence in yourself, but not too much to be big-headed. Pig headed? Well, you have enough, and that’s what counts. I like you, a lot, because you’re so great. I like how you smile and it’s really soft and gentle, even though I know you can smile brighter and grin if you wanted, but maybe you’re shy. I’d never seen you smile when I first arrived, and the fact you can show me your smile now is very wonderful. I’m humbled and honored you’d smile for me let alone at me. I know I’ve been a pain, but when you smile at me it’s contagious, like your happiness and joy just fills me and my chest and I feel so warm and joyful as well that I just can’t help but smile back. But again, your smiles are more conservative than mine, I just smile so large compared to yours, I worry my enthusiasm will drown you.
You’re really conservative compared to me, and I worry a lot about it sometimes. I know I can be a handful, or a pain sometimes, but you always tolerate me and accept my company. Even when I hated you, and perhaps you hated me too way back when, I wanted to prove you wrong so I’d go out of my way to change some aspect of myself. I was a child back then, child and old-fashioned. I just wanted to prove you wrong in the beginning, to prove I was better than what you thought of me. But you were right, there have been few times where you’ve been wrong about something I’ve done. Breasal you helped me grow, you’ve helped me grow so much I don’t know what to do to thank you. I just wanted to make you proud of me, and somewhere along the way I fell in love.
I don’t even know how to describe it, it’s the first time I’ve felt it. I’ve heard so many poems spoken by men and women alike but none of them could properly portray it. Breasal I just love you and it’s so dumb because it makes me want to cry and it makes my chest swell and my stomach knot up but at the same time they’re tears of joy and I can’t help but smile when you’re mentioned and I can’t go a day without wondering if something I see is something you’d like. It’s good and bad and smothering and refreshing and it’s so hard, Breasal. I want to call it one of the worst decisions I’ve made, but would it feel so painfully wonderful if it was wrong?
Just hearing you talk is more satisfying than the most sweetest of sonnets, and you go above and beyond the chivalry of a gentleman and you’re so incredibly intelligent on so many things. I even love the way your name sounds. Breasal. I did not think that in all my years of living, a name so simple could bring such joy and happiness. Just, Breasal.
And you always say my eyes are like stars, but you have never seen your eyes which to you may simply be blue, and narrow, and cold, but you do not see yourself when you talk. They can turn blue like the sky when you’re happy and when you’ve grown angry with me they turn the color of storm clouds and the sadness you portray reminds me of the dark depths of the ocean. Breasal you are just so wonderful and beautiful and if for one day we could trade placed I’d want you to see yourself how I see you because you are just so glorious.
I’ve stayed up countless nights thinking how I could tell you all of this. I’m bad with words, and so are you. We’re both pretty expressive people, our face shows everything but, I want to hear your words. I want to know how you feel about me. Because you kissed me, and it was warm, and rough and wild like the trees or the forests on the mountains, because you kissed me I want to be convinced that maybe you feel the same way, but with matters of the heart, they need to be spoken instead of assumed.
When I first entered your house, I was so shocked at how empty it was, how very, lonely, and clean it felt. I had hoped my intrusions and my gifts would liven them up, but even before that, entering your home it already seemed less lonely, I would spot the things that spoke of you in the house. Your furniture to your glasses to the whiskey you drink, maybe you weren’t as alone as I thought. I wanted to make you happy and brighten your days with plants and small things. You’ve done so much for me I didn’t know how to return it. You’ve made me love myself, you’ve made me grow, you’ve even bought me gifts which I didn’t need. But at the same time, I feel so terrible that I know not what you like aside from ‘simple things’ and the stars in my eyes. I could list all the things I love about your. Your laugh, your smile, how you hold yourself, your intellect, your opinions on things even when they clash with mine, but ask me to tell me something about you and I draw a blank. What aside from the obvious? Suits, cutting wood, building things, stars even… perhaps I am terrible for loving you despite knowing so little.
But I love you. I’ve talked to Petunia so many times about her love for Avery, but never once has she mentioned loving someone so much that you wouldn’t mind sleeping next to them and waking to see their face, or how much you can love someone that you can enjoy the silence between you and them.
Breasal I am a hopeless fool in love and it’s so terrifying to not know what you feel or think. I imagine the scenarios where you do not feel the same, and it hurts, it hurts quite a lot. But for the sake of friendship I will grin and bear it, because I would still love to be your friend. Petunia has mentioned it would make things awkward, so if it does, knowing you were in my life makes me content. I have eternity and the next life to look forward to. I should thank you for helping me grow at the very least in the case you don’t feel the same.
Petunia told me it would hurt.