Dear Amara

You were so much more than a muse.

Photo by Sydney Sims on Unsplash

Dear Amara,

I shouldn’t be writing this letter, but here I am, chasing ghosts with my pen again. You can call me the fool if you like. I can’t quite say you’d be wrong.

Were you surprised when I showed up at your door? Did you ever think anyone would go to that length for you? Or did you think I’d be just another person to leave you lying in the gutter?

I don’t know your full history, but I’m sure you’ll tell me someday. But what I’ve seen in fragments and what I’ve heard in scraps of noise — well, I’ve been enchanted over and over again. And I’m not saying that lightly.

I didn’t think you could ever want someone like me. I thought I was just a chess piece on your gameboard, but I guess I was wrong. Wonders never cease.

When you dream of me, what happens? Do you dare tell me? Or are you just not as much of a dreamer as you wish you were?

I’m over here wondering what goes on in that head of yours. I want to know more, more, more.

I don’t care if I have to wrestle someone to prove my worth for your hand. I don’t care if I have to undergo a series of fairy-tale trials. I just want to be seen by you as the man I am.