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Dear Ed,
I'm really not sure why I'm writing this letter. I could just as easily call you and say all of these same things. More easily, in fact. But I don't know... With the distance between us, I'd love for you to have a piece of me in your hands. You can't hold an email to your chest and smile the same way you can with a sheet of paper.
I know it's only been a few short weeks since we met, and I know we were together in person for a mere fraction of that, but I still feel closer to you than I have to anyone in quite some time. Even my best friends took some time to warm up to me. But I felt close to you instantly, in a way that I've never felt with anyone before.
It still just feels like a fairy tale. I spent so many years thinking this sort of thing couldn't happen to someone like me. That I'd always have to settle, because my standards are quite high, and anyone I'd ever fancy would be wonderful enough to realize they could find someone much smarter and cooler and more handsome than me. And yet, you're still here. And you treat me as though I'm the best thing to happen to you in a long time.
Every time I tell you that this feels like a dream come true, you tell me that you feel the same way. And I'm almost ready to start believing that.
I know you want to take things slow, and that you're worried you'll mess everything up. I'm not a slow-moving sort of person, and I've never been more sure of anything in my life than I am of my feelings for you. But at the same time, I want nothing more than to respect you and give you the care you've never seemed to have before—the care you deserve. So I'm happy to wait for as long as you need. And I'm happy to do anything in my power to help you feel as sure as I do.
That fleeting day when I first met you—which feels like it was yesterday and a year ago in equal measure—has been ringing in my head since then. I wish I could've been with you for longer. I was a fool for leaving you, and the aching months before we'll next see each other are a constant reminder of my regret. But I take solace in your photo and phone number stored safely in my phone.
I'm not a very religious man, but when we speak on the phone, I feel as though I'm talking to an angel. And every time a notification pops up with your name on it, it feels like a little message from a god I'm not sure if I believe in. I'm not sure if it was the universe that brought us together, or fate, or pure coincidence. But buying a plane ticket to cross the country on a whim was one of the best decisions I've ever made.
I may never know what compelled me to do it. Some force beyond my understanding guiding my hand towards the things I didn't know I needed, perhaps. Maybe the universe knows what's best for me better than I do. Maybe we were destined to find each other in every life.
I'm not sure how or why it all happened, and I likely never will be. And I'm okay with that. Because I've never been as sure of anything as I am of how I feel.
When I unpacked from the trip after returning home, I thought I hadn't forgotten anything. But I now know that I unknowingly left my heart with you, for you to take home. And I count down the days until I can hold it in person again, when I next see you.
Again, I'm not sure why I'm writing this letter. I know words on a page will never be enough to tell you all of the things I feel. But I'll write as many letters as you need to trust that I'm not going anywhere.
I love you, Edward Teach.
Yours,
Stede