My Dearest Love-shmove type emotion,
It is so nice to finally have met you. I have heard much about you, and though not all of it was good, I have been extremely anxious that we meet in person. There are somethings that just have to be done face to face, and you my dear Love, you epitomise all that should be embraced in bare skin and stilletoes.
I was thirteen, when I first realised that you were more than just an idea. In the cruelty of a gangly boy a vast three years older than I, I realised that you existed in more than just the hearts and minds of people. You had a body and a shape and a life all your own. And if we were good little mortals, we might be indulged with a gentle kiss on the forehead as you breezed your way across time destroying nations and sparking syphilis epidemics. Its a dirty job but someones got to do it, you seemed to say as you meandered your way through my eighth grade art class.
Ever since then, I have been unable to put you from my mind. I even met your far more glamourous sister, Hate, and though Hate and I had some good times we both realised that we were'nt meant to be. I was made for you Love, and all I could do was wait for you to come and warm my life. And my bed of course, though I wouldnt think of that seriously until I was sixteen.
In the years that followed I spent a lot of time with your family. Hate and I have always been close, but Lust, Desperation and Insanity all came to play. And we had fun, though not always the kind we thought we would.
Can I tell you a secret Love? Every time one of your siblings came to me, I thought it was you. I thought you had found me at last. But then I would wake up one morning and realise that there was only the slightest of family resemblances, or that your evil uncle Alcohol had been playing games with my mind again.
But now Love, you are here... and you're not... cool. You are calm and stable and warm and comfort. Where are the wars? And the plagues? The asteroids that are deflected by the power of love? Cant I at least have a songbird that can tweet out 'Strangers in the Night'? Surely people dont kill each other and start wars because otherwise they would have to read the paper alone in bed in the morning?
Or do they?
You have bewildered me again Love. But just you wait. I'll outfox you yet.
Sincerely,
The Dragon
