I don’t know who you are or where you’re from, but a few things I know. You’ve stopped saying you feel misunderstood, because you know it makes you sound a bit like a child. You’ve resolved to treat everyone fairly, to know who can be a friend and keep a respectful distance from those who can’t. You don’t talk down to people and you shrug when they don’t get your jokes. You have an idea of who you are and what you want to do and, if you’re not there already, you are making sincere efforts. It’s not easy. At times, fear grips you and you feel like the world is about to end, but you can breathe again when you realize that it’s no worse than the last time you felt that way.
We probably won’t meet at a party or in a club. We might meet in a bookshop or in a museum. Or you might stop and smile when you see me petting a stray cat. You like our overlords as much as I do. Warning: I’m too shy to strike up a conversation, but I’ll smile and that will be your cue to say something. Don’t be afraid of sounding silly. You’ll soon be treated to the silly things I say when I like someone. For instance, I might call you “sweetheart” within the first hour, but, don’t be alarmed, that’s just because you’re sweet.
Like the song said, “Tell me your troubles and doubts.” All of them. I’ll tell you all of mine. We will compare scars before we begin to heal. But I don’t need to dwell on this. You know the importance of mutuality and, like me, you feel there can be no intimacy without it. Like me, you will wish to be sure.
It’s not crucial for us to like the same movies, music and books, but you’ll be open to what I like, as I will be open to what you like, because I like you. You’ll be curious about what I write and I’ll be curious about whatever it is you do.
You will make me love my body again, because nowadays I don’t even think of it, not even during my daily 20 minutes of exercise. You will be gentle because, as lame as it makes me sound to others, it’s my thing. You will not have a problem with me acting bossy and a bit motherly. Quite the contrary.
If you ask, I’ll move in with you. We will get a cat. We will develop our own brand of sarcastic humour, and speak it when in company, so that everyone thinks we’re loony toons and figures out we couldn’t have ended up otherwise but together.
We will not overdo it, though. There is no need to wear matching t-shirts that say “Dork” on them. Though, on second thought, can we?.
Anca Rotar is a Romanian-born writer, over-thinker and caffeine addict. She is the author of two books, Hidden Animals and Before It Sets You Free, both available from Amazon.com. Among her interests, which she finds it hard to shut up about, she counts fashion, yoga, city breaks and deadpan sarcasm. She is also currently studying Japanese, so wish her luck. You can sample bits of Anca’s creative writing here.