Dear Lover

Originally written 26 June 2005.

Dear Lover,

I have no idea who you are. I may not have even met you yet. But I know you're out there, and I know you're dreaming of finding me, just as I'm dreaming of finding you. I know that in time, if we both continue to live our lives and walk down our respective paths, we're bound to meet. I look forward to that day. In fact, I find it necessary to remind myself to slow down and enjoy the journey until that day comes. After all, our meeting will be so much wondrous if I use this time to prepare.

With that in mind, I decided I wanted to write you a letter. Who knows, maybe it'll become a series of letters. I just thought it would be a good idea to tell you who I am, who I hope you are, what I'm afraid of, and what's important to you. (That's a lot to write about, so I think this will be more than one letter.)

Let's start out with who I hope you are and what's important to me. After all, helping you to understand this will help you (and myself) realize that out of all the men out there, you are the one who is my true lover. I think that to me, the most important thing is that you are yourself. I don't want someone who tries to be what you think I want. I don't want you to try to impress me. Lover, you are what impresses me. Your genuine nature, your ability to be sincerely you, and your beautiful (by definition rather than by design) expression of your soul is what matters to me.

This means that you know yourself. You know your feelings, and you're not afraid to face them. Okay, maybe that's not exactly accurate. Maybe you are a little afraid from time to time. But you're willing to face them anyways. And you're willing to explore them and share them with someone like me.

You're also willing to listen to me when I talk about my feelings. Not necessarily to fix or heal them, but to just hear them and let me know that they matter to you because I matter to you. And you're willing to let me face whatever feelings -- beautiful or frightening -- that come up, because you know it's a part of me and that allowing me to do so will make me a better person and a better lover.

You're also someone who is willing to be imperfect and accept an imperfect person like me. But more importantly, you are someone who can look at imperfection -- mine, yours, or anyone else's -- and see a beauty in it. This is because you understand that our imperfections is what make us human, and often make us completely adorable.

You are someone who understands that being is at least as important as doing. While you are a lot of fun and can walk through a weekend of fast-paced activity for the two of us with great energy, you're not afraid to slow down either. You enjoy a quiet night as we sit on a couch in one another's arms, talking about intimate subjects as barely audible instrumental music plays in the background. You can sit comfortably with me as the conversation dies away for a few minutes and we just sit, listening to each other's deep, rhythmic breathing.

Sex. Let's face it, it's important. It's important to me, and as my Lover, it's important to you. But I think it's more important that we understand sex in the same light. Like me, you're someone who doesn't believe that sex is about "being good" or "being bad." You're someone who doesn't worry about your "performance," because you're someone who understands that I'm not going to give you a report card in the morning.

I want someone who sees sex as an act of intimacy and exploration. I want someone whow knows it's about learning how each of us reacts to touch. I want someone who understands that it's about enjoying ourselves and each other and connecting on a totally different, more incredible level. And I want someone who can appreciate that it's as much about enjoying the physical and emotional sensations of the process as it is about the end result. And I want you to be someone who isn't afraid to help me remember all this on those occasions where I lose my own way.

I want to take this moment to tell you that looks don't matter to me. Well, that's not entirely accurate. Looks do matter to me. I have to be able to look at you and think, "Damn, I want to take him home!" But you don't have to be a CK model for that to happen. My understanding of what is good looking is much more subtle than that. To be honest, the things that attract me to you are probably not tangible at all. They're as much about how you carry yourself, how you express yourself and your feelings with your face and body, and how your eyes sparkle with excitement when your passionate, as about a certain body type, or certain defining features. To be honest, I think that as long as you are comfortable with yourself, I will be drooling inside within minutes of spending time with you.

Well, Lover, there's probably more. But I think this is enough for now. I know you're out there, and now we both know what you're like -- or at least have a few good ideas. I hope that this will help you find your way to me when the time is right. Until then, know that my thoughts are with you. See you soon.

Desirously yours,
-- Jarred.

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.