I’m not asking for an analysis of the content, specifically, of the letter that follows, though you may do so (just please don’t savage me, LOL). Rather, I am looking for analysis of the meter, the flow, the use of adjectives and imagery, etc. I’ve long been told that the romantic exposition is a strong point of mine, and now I’m looking to fine-tune it. Depending on how this goes, and how productive it is, I may post additional material, if anyone is interested.
My Dearest Felecia,
Once again, I sit down at my desk to set pen to paper and attempt, however inadequately, to express myself to you, and once again I find that words are insufficient to the task. How can one express the full range of emotions that are contained in a single look, a simple touch, or a precious tear slowly trickling down a solitary cheek?
I complain of words being inadequate, and yet I hesitate lest I should over-extend myself and reach too far in the effort, straining your belief in what I say and your trust that my meanings and intentions are pure and true. I fear that my full expression would test your credulity in my struggle to explain the depth of what I experience when I consider you and how you affect me.
And Oh! How you affect me, lover. At times when I am given to contemplation of what you have come to mean to me, it is too much. I find myself awash in emotions: happiness for what we’ve been able to share; anticipation for what the future could hold; excitement at the thought of getting to see you again someday; exhilaration when we spend time together talking for hours on end; and joy at having become an important part of your life.
Felecia, you, and by extension our relationship, are precious to me. In spite of the insecurities which sometimes trouble me, I would not trade the experience of loving you for anything else in which I could have partaken in the last several months. You have helped to assuage a wound which has burdened me for the last six years. The torch I carried was a scar and a grief that burned interminably, but you lifted that weight, extinguished the most damaging of the flames, and salved the portions of my heart that were still festering from this past hurt. It is perhaps this portion of our relationship that has endeared you so deeply to me; this portion that you cannot see, but which I most surely can feel but am inadequate to tell.
For your affection and your support, I am grateful, and always will be. This gratitude has helped me to become comfortable with the thought of keeping myself exclusively to you. I find it easy to be content to wait for you and the rare, precious times that we might be together. It pleases me to keep myself for you. Felecia, I have no right to ask you to do likewise, and I would never outright ask you to do so, but I feel that I can ask you to do something somewhat out of your nature. I ask you not to think about us with the logic of your mind, but with the impetuosity of your heart. If you can, just give us a little time, and let’s see what else might develop. If, however, you feel that you cannot, I can assure you with all honesty that I will understand. Though my heart compels me to see if there is any way to make your happiness complete in me, your final happiness is my truest desire. I suppose, in a way, what I’m asking is to give your heart the same chance that I am willing to take.
Regardless of anything else I have said here tonight, I want you to know that you are loved. You are deeply, truly loved, desired and appreciated more than I will ever be able to express. You are a very large part of me now, and I hope that I, too, am a part of you. Thank you for being you, thank you for making me such a special part of your life, and thank you for allowing me to make you a part of mine. Give me the opportunity, and you will come to know what it is to be loved not only for who you are, but for who you are in my eyes. I’ve said it before: if you could see yourself through my eyes, you would fall in love with you, too.
Felecia, I hope you will forgive me for the length of this letter, but I had so much I wanted to say and so much I wanted you to know, and it just spilled out of me as I wrote to you tonight. As inadequate as it is, no poet that has ever existed has ever been able to improve upon its simple meaning:
I love you.