Dear Stranger,

I find myself in a draught of words. Thoughts escape me. Emotions refuse to be put into phrases. As if I am nothing but a tangled web of feelings.

I cannot seem to find where to start. Well... I guess that's your influence on me.

I am a writer. I should have been able to come up with witty ways to express myself to you. And yet. Here I am, rambling on about everything and nothing. Perhaps it's the nervousness, the possibility, the fear of the unknown holding me back? What if you say no?

And yet. Here I am. Writing. Because, whatever the outcome may be. It's better to have tried and failed than to have not tried at all.

So... the first time we met?

I was nervous as fuck. I went on and on and kept talking. I don't usually do that. Ever. If you'd met someone from my office. They might tell you that there is a chance I was secretly a mute person. As they haven't actually seen me talk. Just typing on the keyboard staring dead at the screen.

I used to be a boring guy until recently. With a boring job and 9 to 5 dead eyes look. Do you know what changed?

I met you.

You were.. so sudden, so genuine, so....you. I was prepared for the world to have ended with the pandemic tbh. And yet, I wasn't prepared for you. Do you know the best thing I like about you?

It's not just your cute way to say "thenk yeww" it's not just the sudden heart-melting smile I've seen you do. It's not just the unyielding strength I see in you.

It's the way you make me feel. You make me feel happy. You make me smile.

That's...

That has not happened before. Somehow, it has always ended up being me with the task to make others happy. I don't resent that. It's just.. I've always wanted... there to be a time.. only if once in my life.. when someone made me feel happy too, you know?

Is it selfish? I don't know.

And then you baked me a cake for my birthday. No one has ever done that. Heck, more than half the people that claim to know me didn't know it was my birthday.

Is it pathetic to share that? I don't care.

I'm okay with being vulnerable in front of you.

All I know is I could go on talking to you for hours without end without having something to talk about. You make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

I am not a person that can do grand gestures. I am not rich. Not even close tbh. Nothing comes to mind to say with certainty that I can offer you which other guys can't.

You and I...it was a chance meeting. That blind date.

And yet. Here we are. Coming back to each other. Getting addicted. Somehow entangled anyway.

Perhaps there is something called luck after all. Or is it fate? Idk

All I do know is that I care about you so much that it frightens me. And that, I..have fallen for you. Too soon? Well.. tell that to my heart that couldn't wait. And now it's too late to back down.

So, babe,

Will you be mine?