Ah, I think you’re a mythical creature. Every word you say makes me want two more. I want to drown in your history, your thoughts, your eyes. I am not blind to your flaws, and I won’t say a thing to dismiss them. Regardless, there is nothing you can tell me and nothing you can do that will quell my wish to know more. I suspect there is no way of learning everything, and that fascinates me. As soon as I have a working idea of your quirks, thought patterns, opinions, great loves and biggest fears, the you I had cleanly classified is gone. The kaleidoscope realigns. You are new. I get to learn you again. Let me be a lifelong scholar. Let me fight to understand you time and again.

The secret you thought you could never tell anyone — did you think it would make me shy away or treat you differently? My heart breaks for you, and yet all I want is to help mend yours. Destroy me if that fixes you.

You possess one of the fiercest intellects I have ever encountered. Compared to you, most of the world must feel like potatoes. How desperately lonely it must be. I see two things burn brightly in your eyes — intelligence and unfathomable sadness. I know you’ve tried to end your own life. Don’t do that, my darling. I would rather see an entire continent of others put to death by torture than have a single bad thing happen to you. “Neither heaven nor hell wants me,” you told me. Be that as it may, this ghastly world wants you. This lost world needs you. Give me your sadness and I will vanquish it. Give me your fears and I will slay them. Whisper your insecurities and we’ll laugh them away. Together, we could rule the world. Of this, I am certain. Even if you doubt yourself, never, ever doubt me. Take my hand. Run.

(Disclaimer: This is part of the letter series)

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