Blue Orchid

Luna,

I discovered long ago that writing was a catharsis, a source of reflection and renewal.  This is the form in which my thoughts reflect best the very essence of my being. If you care for me — if you love me as you say you do — then understand that the words I write are a piece of my soul and I’ve crafted these words for you alone.

I’m flawed, love. In fact, I’m broken. This is not how I had envisioned my life and I remain in the procees of reconciling my former expectations with what my reality has become. When you and I met, I was dying or perhaps I was already dead. It’s difficult to pinpoint the precise moment of such a fall — it wasn’t sudden or violent — it was a protracted slog that resulted in the accumulation of loss and sorrow, of depression and anxiety, of betrayal and self-doubt.

It was all necessary.

I had to be humbled.

I needed to burn.

It was you who breathed the spark of life back into my spirit, Luna. You provided to me compassion, patience and reassurance. You gazed at me as if I were the kindest and most precious creature you had ever known. I know that it took longer than you had anticipated but I did fall in love with you, hard. I have a chemistry and connection with you that is wholly unique to us. You have accessed parts of me that I’ve never revealed to another.

Do you know why I love you? Although you may be the world’s most striking woman, it’s not solely your physical beauty that has ensnared me. Nor is it credited simply to your intelligence, which is greater than you give yourself credit for and undoubtedly keener than you let on to others. You’re a star, Luna, and that kind of brilliance cannot easily be concealed, not from those of us who bother to search for those most luminous lights.

I love you, Luna, because inside of you is a soul permeated by goodness and innocence. Do you know what I see when I get lost in your eyes? I see the most curious thing — something caught between self-loating and serendipity, a web of hurt and hope. In my lifetime, I’ve witnessed that in exactly one other individual — I see that same signature whenever I peer into a mirror.

You and I may not be the storybook, but I will storm the castle to save you. We may never secure blessings, but I will run roughshod through hell to heal you. You and I have embarked upon an improbable journey inside of an upside down, cartoon world. I want to hold your hand as we fall deeper into the rich colors and absurd physics of this surreal landscape.

I love you, Luna, gently and fiercely.