Dear Darling

36

Dylan

"I'm pretty sure I'm falling in love with you,"

I had said the words. I had voiced the thoughts that had been swimming in my muddled brain for the last two months. I had said it, and now, staring into her eyes, looking at her perfect face through the pixels of a cellphone, I knew that it was the right thing to say. I knew I was right, but at the same time, I felt a sense of dread bloom in my stomach.

She wasn't saying anything back to me; she was just looking at me. Her mouth was slightly open and I knew that she was shocked by my words. Her brown eyes gazed at me through the screen and miles of country dividing us, boring into my soul and searching for any hint that I might not have just said what I did.

I looked at her, the girl I had come to love, and I saw the woman she would become. I saw her in the city; the sun on her face and the wind in her hair. I saw her in Central Park and Times Square and on the Brooklyn Bridge. I saw her in my apartment and in my arms and in my dreams. I saw her at NYU, studying journalism. I saw her at the Times or the Journal or some other fancy news outlet, telling her stories to the world.

I saw a life with her. I saw myself happy, with her. I saw myself in her arms every night; pulled close to her body as we shared our lives together. I saw it all, but she wasn't saying anything back.

"Josephine?" I asked her name. One word, begging her to say something to me. Anything. She could tell me she hated me, and I would be okay with it, as long as she said something.

"Teddy," God, that nickname. That word that sounded like heaven coming from her lips; that word that had me melted, like putty in her hands.

"Teddy," She said again. She said it like it would be her last word. She said it like it was air.

"Josephine," I said her name again. "Please, tell me that I did not just do irreversible damage to our relationship,"

I looked at her, this woman I loved, and I knew she was my home. She had to love me back, how could she not? She had to, because if she didn't, I don't know if I could ever live with another.

"Teddy," She looked at me. That awed expression was still on her face, but the longer I returned her gaze, the more that expression morphed into a smile. A smile that broke across her entire being. She smiled and I saw the sun; I saw the moon and God and love and life.

"I'm pretty sure I love you too,"

My lungs emptied themselves. They lost the ability to breathe, and I lost the ability to speak. I gaped at her, a wide smile breaking across my face. I felt like I'd split in two just from smiling at her. Her cheeks were blushed as she struggled to not look away from me.

"You do?" I longed to hear her confirm it again. To say the words I'd been hoping would come out of her mouth.

I searched her pixelated face, searching for any sign that this was a dream. When she nodded yes, I nearly died.

"Say it, please," I begged her. I had never begged a girl for anything in my life. "I need you to say it."

This time, she spoke back without any hesitation.

"I love you, Dylan,"

I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I looked at her and I decided in that moment that I had to see her, in person. I needed to hold her and touch her and kiss her and know that one million percent, Josephine was real and she was in love with me too.

I needed that like I needed oxygen. I needed her like I needed a heartbeat.

"I love you, Josephine."

Her face was beat red and her smile was as wide as the Atlantic, but she was beautiful. Her hair was slightly falling out of its braid, but she was beautiful. Her heart was heavy, you could see it in her eyes; her soul was weary, but she was beautiful. She was young and full of life and torn apart and put back together and lost and found. She was everything; life and death and love and loss and beauty and pain.

She was my Josephine.

"I can't believe I finally said it," I confessed. She laughed, the sound was music.

"I can't believe I'm not in a million confetti pieces right now," She told me, that smile still hadn't left her face. "I felt like I was going to throw up,"

"Don't throw up," I said, teasing.

"This feels like a dream, did that really just happen?"

"It really did, beautiful."

I watched as she flushed again, she looked magnificent when she was embarrassed. I found it adorable that just one word, a simple pet name, could do that to her. I would spend the rest of my existence relishing in every movement, word and glance she bestowed upon me.

"Stop doing that," She said, looking down. I could tell she was trying to hide herself from me, but her efforts were unsuccessful.

"Doing what?"

I knew full well she meant stop making her blush, but I couldn't help it. I enjoyed being playful with her; teasing her and drawing out a reaction that I somehow knew only I could pull from her.

"You know what," Her smirk was commanding, she was sure of herself.

She was powerful and intelligent and pure. She was a goddess and a devil and an angel. A queen and a commoner and a scholar. She was a fantasy and a reality and she was tangible.

I held up my hands in surrender, she won. She could win every time, she could win it all so long as she kept me with her. I saw her nod in approval, mocking how quickly I gave in. She confirmed that yes, that was the right thing to do, before she let out a giggle that nearly killed me.

A sound that reminded me of tinkling bells. Like a mystical being that suddenly materialized inside my phone.

"Teddy," She said after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Will you play me another song?"

I picked up my guitar, smiling as I began to comply with her request.

"What do you want me to play?"

"Anything," She said. "I just like hearing you sing,"

"Okay," I said, lightly plucking the strings as I thought of a song to sing for her. "Alright, I've got one."

She nodded, encouraging me to begin. I breathed in and out. It was foolish, but the thought of playing for her made me nervous as hell. I began the song, a song that reminded me so much of her. A song that made me smile every time I heard it, because it brought about thoughts of her.

"You can be the potter, I'll be the clay. You can be the blacksmith, I'll be the blade," I sang.

I played and I sang for her. I played for all the love I felt and I sang for the heart that yearned. I played for the sunny days in the city and I sang for the rainy days in the small town.

"You can be the poet, I'll be the song. You can be the daylight, I'll be the dawn."

I looked at her face and saw her smile. I saw her warmth and her soul and her spirit. I saw her hope and her worry and her heart. I saw her brains and her beauty and her love. I looked at her and saw who she was and who she wanted to be.

I thought of her baby sister and her mother; both of whom I would regret not being able to meet for the rest of my life. I saw them and I knew that they were proud of her. They were looking down on her and smiling for everything she had accomplished and everything that was in her future.

"You be love, I will be your love," I smiled through the line, receiving a smile in return.

I played to show her I cared. I sang to show her I loved. I serenaded her, desperate for her to see that I was true. That I loved her with all of my soul and that I was in deep. Deep enough to last a lifetime.

Because the truth was, she had my heart. All of it. Everything that it stood for and everything it represented, was hers.

My Josephine.