Love Letters - 0015

Oh REDACTED,

I was so naïve and full of delusions of romance when I was a bright-eyed girl of eighteen; I remember you and how you barely spoke English. You spoke so little English, that I took it upon myself to learn mandarin just so I could demonstrate the effort I was willing to put into being with you. I thought your accent was adorable and thought it was so brave to witness someone near my age willing to risk moving to a completely foreign country to make a living. I felt so triumphant when you gave me your phone number on a scrap of paper, excitedly jamming it away into my purse with a determination to call from my Nokia Kyocera. Recounting it all now, I feel quite silly at how hard I fell for you. Not the idea of you, but "you." I did not care that you worked at a modest restaurant in some backstreet in Tampa. I actually found it cute that you were shorter than me, certainly a first as I had always attracted athletic men of my height or greater. I enjoyed your sweet laugh. The way you made me feel, just in hearing your voice over the phone, I was glad to not be in front of you with my heart pounding in my chest and my stomach fluttering inside. I must have had the silliest grin on my lips, and I chuckle now at how much I must have sounded like an absolute corporate-trademark princess as I spoke with an incurable smile. I still retain my journals full of phrases and kanji, broken sentences and careful illustrations. The sketchbook is just so beautiful, I cannot bear to throw it away. It is also a memory and a painful lesson of the heart, a mistake I do not intend to repeat. I had convinced myself learning mandarin would be a lovely idea with the prospect of the People's Republic of China emerging as a global economic superpower at that particular moment in time, but we both know it was just so I could be closer to you. I still do not apologize for existing as a woman heighted at 173cm, though you found it an offense so egregious that it was ultimately insurmountable. A shame; I still wonder where you are, and how you ended up. These days, as a woman who has ripened and is becoming softer each day in my saccharine sweetness, I count myself fortunate that my naivety did not sooner get me trafficked. I am not sure why I still believe in love so deeply as I do. I suppose... because I exist, and because my husband exists, surely there are a few other more soulmates waiting for me on this earth of 8-billion and counting. With the utmost sincerity, I hope I never see you again in any lifetime.