Dear Love of my Life,
Don’t worry. I’m not going to use your name. You know who you are. I’ve kept your name secret on purpose. So I can keep part of us private.
Besides, your name is what everyone else knows you by. The cashier at the grocery store, people at work, girls at the gym.
Anyone can call you by name. Only I can call you the love of my life. Or so I thought. I’ve recently learned, someone else loves you too.
I don’t know why they love you. I suspect it’s because of how you look. That’s always the first thing that attracts people to you. You can let her know looks don’t last.
The reasons I love you go beyond the physical.
I love you because you’re strong when I need you to be. Supporting me. I know I probably don’t seem like I need support. But I do. Everyone does. In fact, being a strong woman is exhausting. Because I’m so independent and able to do so much on my own I don’t want you to think I don’t need you. Because I do.
People talk about love at first sight and I used to roll my eyes. ‘Cause that’s the kind of girl I am. Which I’m sure you know about me. But, it’s actually true. And now I feel like a heel for making fun of other people for believing that love at first sight is possible. But now I know it is because the second I looked at you I knew I loved you. I don’t know why or how, I certainly can’t explain it but the very first time I saw you I knew I loved you.
There are days when I come home after battling traffic or a migraine or the weird girl that stops to talk to me all the time and all I have to do is look at you and I feel better. I bet you didn’t know that. That all you have to do is be there and I feel happy. You don’t have to tell a joke, be funny, or entertain me in anyway.
You just have to be there.
And that’s kind of the problem. You’re not here right now.
You’re not here for me to sit in your lap. You’re not here to support me and feel warm around me. You’re not here to make me feel better after getting into a fight with a friend or having a disaster at work. You’re not here to for me to sit quietly with by the fireplace. Reading a book, not saying a word.
So I thought if I wrote you this letter, in public … you’d come home.
I hope this doesn’t make you mad, or embarrass you. I couldn’t think of any other way to get in touch with you since you can’t seem to answer a phone, a text or an email.
Please, please, please come home. I’m not good with expressing my feelings, I know. But I’m trying. In an absurdly public forum no less.
Love of my life … I need you. I need your support, I need your stability, I need your beauty, your calmness, your strength. I need you.
You’re probably in shock by now, I’ve used the word love so many times. I love you. See? I even said it publicly. I know after all this time I’ve never told you in person. I can’t explain why. It’s just hard for me. But if you come home, I’ll tell you in person. I’ll whisper it quietly every morning and every night.
I’m sorry I could never say I love you out loud.
It just felt weird.
You being a chair and all.
I love you Ikea, Strandmon chair. I love you.
Please go on sale in Canada soon. I shall stare longingly at the catalogue as I await your reply.