Open Letter to Anyone Who Hasn't Quite Fallen in Love Yet

writingsforwinter:

I hope you will love like weathervanes, spinning until you find True North in the middle of every storm; I hope you love like apocalypses, like the rain elopes with the ground.

I hope you will fall in love without mercy, without apologizing for the way love weakens your knees, fall in love without atonement, fall in love so deeply you won’t be able to tell the difference between your own skin and someone else’s. I hope you’ll fall in love in public, without being confined to only showing affection in private.

I hope you’ll fall in love with someone whose only crime is wanting to dust your entire body with their fingerprints like a suspect before being led into a jail cell, with someone who gives you not one chance, but all the chances you deserve. I hope you’ll fall in love with someone who makes your immune system pray for its own immune system just so it wouldn’t have to feel quite so lovesick.

I hope you will love like the moon: so full and wide that everything else seems small in comparison; I hope you love like wolves, hungry and snarling and howling for blood. I hope you love like witch’s brew, like a hurricane building in the southern-most corner of your tired, aching, beautiful body.

I hope you will fall in love feet-first, then follow up with the rest of your body, sliding slowly in until your heart comes to rest at some place it can finally call home. Home like a window without doors, home like a carousel where every stop contains another universe, home like a toothache in the gums.

I hope you’ll fall in love with someone who sobs tears that are more sugar than salt, so you’ll learn that love is supposed to be sweet and not bitter. I hope you’ll fall in love with someone who never wants to say anyone else’s name but yours. First, middle, last, and all. I hope you’ll fall in love with someone whose tongue is a sounding board for your echo, who kisses you like they think the wind is reflected in your sigh.

I hope you will love like tire tracks: fiercely and without stopping, with a trail to mark every new destination. I hope you will love like telephone wires spy on the conversations that cross their humming bodies, like forest fires and like moths sometimes burn themselves to death just to reach what they assume to be the saving sun.

I hope you will fall in love as many times as you need. I hope you will fall in love with the way your bones automatically align themselves to fit someone else’s spine, the way your wrist and elbow joints gradually curve to meet the parabolic shape of someone else’s body held inside your arms. I hope you fall in love with the way someone else can still love you with their back turned; I hope you fall in love the same way a car goes into reverse, with a brief moment of panic before the slow catch and release.

I hope you’ll fall in love with someone who would rather be alone with you than the alone kind of alone, with someone who won’t play toss with every volley of your heart, but instead catch and hold, hold, hold. With someone who whispers I love you like it’s a sin but enjoys every moment of potential hell, with someone who kisses the roof of your mouth like they’ll leave a secret inside the rafter of every tooth that will blow out when their mouth leaves a hurricane inside yours.

I hope you fall in love like there’s no other choice.