Dear Lover

Dear Lover,

I have to admit, I'm a bit disappointed today. Up until last night, I thought I had actually found you. I had met a guy a while back, and based on circumstances and conversations, I began to believe that he was you. Well, it turns out that I had royally misinterpreted things, and my hopes that my wait and search were almost over came crashing down. So now I find myself a little sadder today (don't worry though, as I'm sure I'll recover soon enough) as I return to a more uncertain wait.

But I'm writing you today to do more than cry on your shoulder. This unfortunate experience has also given me more insight as to the kind of person I hope you'll be. You see, the reason I thought Sean was you was because he made a few statements that were a bit open-ended. He meant that as off-handed comments. And at first, I took them as such. But as time went on -- and after he made a particular comment that was a bit hard not to misinterpret at least a little -- I started getting the distinct impression that he was trying to express a romantic interest in a somewhat subtle way, the kind often attempted by those of us who are somewhat shy. So based on these incorrect interpretations, I came to an equally uncorrect decision.

When we finally and truly meet, I hope that you are daring enough to express your possible interest more directly. I don't want to have to rely on subtle hints and undertones in comments that could be misinterpreted. After all, it would save a great deal of trouble. I also hope you'll be the kind of person who's more direct in communicating in the relationship -- both as it starts and as it moves into a mature commitment. After all, it's so much easier than having to try and second guess intended meanings and connotations.

Don't get me wrong, Lover. I'm not expecting you to take all of the risks in the realm of communications. After all, it wouldn't be fair to me to ask you to always stick your ass on the line and face potential disappointment. I'm willing to be just as direct. When we meet, I'm more than willing to be the first to express interest, as scary as that thought may be to me. All I ask is that before I put my ass on that line, I at least would like to know there's something of a chance. (For example, I don't want to spend a great deal of time working up the courage to ask you out, only to find out you're engaged at the critical moment.)

In the end, Lover, I guess it's about vulnerability as much as it's about visibility. The two are interrelated, after all. So I guess in the end, I hope you're the kind of person who realizes that too, and are willing to chance the vulnerability necessary to help make my job of finding you a little easier. After all, you're so wonderful, I want to find you so that I can spend and share my life with you.

Longingly yours,
Jarred.