Dear Sam the XVth (It was your royal sounding email id, which made me fall for you !)
I write this letter to you on paper using a pen, because honestly the server has been down for two hours now! This has forced me to evaluate our relationship. (Mine and yours, not that horrid, unilateral, dependent, abusive relationship I share with the Internet)
We met three years ago, didn't we? On that beautiful day, my iPhone app told me it was sunny outside with just a bit of cloud (23 Degrees Celsius).
You looked at me, I looked away- exactly how most love stories and stalking starts.
We were talking soon after. We both pretended to be the coolest versions of ourselves. You didn't really believe that I knew a Harley from a Bentley, did you? And I never presumed you would be as great a listener, as you were those first couple of days.
That's the beauty of young love- you explore each other like an antique book store on a lazy Sunday, time and intention both being on your side. Of course, whether you get a great book in the bargain is entirely dependent on luck.
We texted a lot, in those days. Thankfully, this tweeting mania didn't exist back when you and I were courting ! A good old emoticon expressed as much, if not more, than a hash tag "#" could. I don't know how kids these days keep the romance alive. Preceding every message with #hotforyou or #mommawantsyoubad would have killed that rush.
You know, the rush I'm speaking of? When you're sitting on a table with your friends and the corner of your eye is on your phone.
The table vibrates. And you jump, like a prisoner awaiting a conjugal visit.
Of course, it could just be your friends phone, or the other friend shaking the table with her impatient, possibly frustrated foot. The sheer rush when I would see your name light up my phone screen. I would read the text, grin like a monkey and put my phone away. I wouldn't want you to know I was available and waiting for your text, that's just not how ladies play, is it?
We moved onto emails eventually. Spamming each others work accounts. My boss thought I refreshed Outlook because I was young, crazy and raring to go. He didn't guess where I wanted to go.
A little witty remark . Private jokes. Your favorite font was Tahoma and mine was Calibri. You changed your font to match mine. It was a beautiful world we created, just you, me and an internet provider of 500mbps.
We didn't meet as often Sam. We couldn't. I was exhausted from that long day of texting, emailing and whats-apping you. True Romance tires you out.
But every time I missed that beautiful face, I would log onto Facebook and scroll through your 487 (erstwhile 489) pictures.
You do clean up well. And thank god, you got over that goatee phase !
I had to put up a witty status once in a while. You needed to know how fun I was, and really how else would you have found out?
I remember the day you shared a youtube link on my wall., I refreshed the page a million times. I knew you were serious about me. It takes commitment to openly communicate on my wall, out there where the world can see us.
We hit a rough patch in the middle. As most great lovers do.
I saw a picture of you and her. Someone had tagged you. Literature had taught me, that a picture is worth a thousand words.
I dealt with the problem, the only way I could- by 'liking' the picture. The next day, my friends and I went out to a party. They knew what would cheer me up- a well-lit Ladies room, where we all pouted with our best face forward. You would have seen the album that very night, it was called "We go out and look fabulous every night vol47".
I knew I burnt a hole in your heart that night, baby. It was tough love.
I'm glad we survived that phase. It made us stronger, and brought us closer together.
We have been dating five years since. We're together, mature and solid. Your love is evident in the little things you do for me everyday.
Every time you're away, you always 'check-in' so I know you reached safely.I let you know what you mean to me, by making sure I Instagram a picture of you, before I put it up. Sepia toned just how you like it.
It's insulting when people talk of great loves and forget the perils us, young, modern couples go through.
Thx Bby, u RoCk MAh wurl.
photo credit: link