Dear Blank page.
It’s me again. I come bearing ink.
As I clutch this pen and try and flirt with you again I find myself just staring dreamily at your canvas and smiling. I have just been sitting with you in this car playing this mix tape in my mind. My thoughts of her on shuffle. I haven’t written a thing. Instead I find myself desperately searching for her in your margins. It feels like I am cheating on you.
Over the last year and a half you are one of a handful of things I have whole heartedly been committed to. We have shared so many words and I have grown so much within your margins. You have taught me to own my crazy. To live my truth. To sit with my thoughts. To engage and articulate them. You have schooled me on focus, determination and perseverance. At the same time you have made me feel like a little kid whose has been taking joy rides in the theme park of language.
Thank you. For everything.
I remember when you challenged me. What are you writing for? Are you writing to get at women? Do you think you can write your way into their hearts? I ignored you. I just kept writing. But ask me the same question again and I will answer you with this. If I ever wrote to get at women then she is the one I have been writing for. She is the Broomhilda to my Django.
She is as beautiful as she is intelligent. A vivacious and ambitious woman. I am amazed and intrigued by her mind and her world view. She mirrors many of my own thoughts. I catch myself getting high on her happy. That crazy kind of happy. Our thoughts oscillate seamlessly on the most beautiful wavelength. I can relate to her on so many different levels. Our hearts beat to the same rhythm. She is both Sensei and grasshopper to me. She is my teacher and yet she still wants to learn from me … says she wants to tap into my mind.
She is a dreamer, believer, achiever and a creative at heart. Pure in mind and soul. Super chilled. The realest of the real. Flawed but stitched together with good intentions. Imperfectly perfect. She is simply amazing. I just want to go on an endless trip in her mind and find all the hidden treasures it has to offer and all the emotions she might be hiding.
She reminds me of you. She reminds me of something I have never had. Something that I have always wanted. I know. I plead insanity.
She is the woman in the mirror. She gets me in a way only you have been able to before. I can’t imagine this feeling getting old in my soul or my spirit. I am determined to keep it alive through all the late nights and early mornings. She has me thinking about forever. She has me thinking about December.
So even though at times it feels like I am cheating on you with her. I feel like our story so far has been about me becoming the man I needed to be before I met her. I hope you understand.
It feels right.
I guess the point I am trying to make with this letter is that I after all this lusting and all this time. I finally found someone I can tell the way I feel about you.
Oh ….one more thing. She is playing on my dream team baby!
The Mad Scientist A.K.A. The Night Writer.