From: Krystin, 28, Portland, OR
To: Eric, 29, Portland, OR

I remember the day we met like it was yesterday, the day I was sent in to wake a sleeping boy in a borrowed bed. I had just turned 20, still clinging to an idealistic dream of love, and you had a sweetness about you that confirmed this ideal was somehow tangible.

You shared my love for The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, and you smelled like fresh cut carrots. You were perfect.

A whirlwind love affair and a few days later, you returned home Idaho. I felt like a piece of me went with you, and yet I barely knew you. You haunted my dreams and brought fever to my rainy days. I eyed your address with suspicion, and put my heart on paper. That’s when my crusade began to make you realize you couldn’t live without me.

For the next two years we lives separate lives in separate towns, but the letters and mixed tapes seemed to fill the temporary void. Time away from school was spent in your arms, and time in school was made up of minutes without you. An entire summer filled with the Sawtooth Mountain views and hot spring baths derived from the Salmon River made Senior year in Eugene…miles away from you…almost unbearable.

When I graduated, you finally made the move. We fashioned a home out of a first floor apartment we shared with squirrels who stole fruit from our tables. We went on dates, allowed strange musicians to crash on our floor, and felt our way through this new thing called an adult relationship.

Next came Portland. You held me when my mom had cancer, and continued to hold me when you yourself was diagnosed. The whole experience cast a new color on our lives, and despite the pain and fear, everything became a bit brighter and so much more important. We grew to appreciate each other on another level, and found a deeper trust.

When we finally married the day after we met, six years later…we were already married. It was a formality, a show to make our family members more comfortable with something that had actually occurred years ago when we exchanged vows in a tiny bathroom in NE Portland.

As each day follows, my love for you continues to grow. It’s an endless wonder, a bottomless pit that could be carved through this world and into another. I can’t wait for the day that our family grows beyond the you and me of it all, and our incredibly precious children grow up to marvel at how much two people can truly love each other.

Krystin

From: Stefan Frank, 26 years, Aargau, Switzerland
To: Karima Banhar, 22 years, Casablanca, Marokko

My Honney

You remeber when I saw you first time. It was in La Bodega. You was with your stupid EX-Boyfriend, kissing and so on, but for me, the world around you was quiet. I didn’t see somebody else. Only your smile. I was bounded, and I still am. And then, to go in contact with you. Nearly impossible, but only nearly. Endly, your girlfriend took the number from me. AIAIAI. And one week later, you called me. It was not the love on the first view from your site. It was really difficult for me to come closer to you. Difficult to have a deep discussion. But the first smile, you gave to me. PENG.

The Time we spend was the best Time in my life. And there is no minute, im not thinking on you. I’m a bit stupit, you know this. But ok, noboy is perfect. We have a big challenge in front uf us. Your from Marocco, Muslim, in School, … Me, Im from Switzerland, Konfession less, Job, … But you know and I know, we have the chace to stay together. It will be difficult but we have the chance. We have to catch this chance. What we have is rar! I can think on you, and I start crying. Like now. I can take you in my arms, and there is a feeling, its better the Bungee-Jumping. Listen my honney, I will do everithing, too save our love. Just help me. Karima Banhar, I LOVE YOU.

Even if this is not the Top Lovestory here, im my life it is.

From: That quiet girl, 17, Massachusetts
To: You, 17, Massachusetts

Please understand what I am about to say.

It breaks my heart.

I love you. I love you. I. love. you.

I never believed in love at first sight. I was a jaded teenager wrapped up in cigarettes and art and maintaining my high GPA. You have changed me in ways I thought I could not be changed, and it kills me that you don’t care. I would follow you to the ends of the earth, I would kneel at your knees and weep at the hardships you’ve had to bear throughout your short life, pain that I could never experience in a million years; but you don’t seem to care. I am anguished, I am tortured in love. We see each other four times a week, brushing by in our summer jobs, content to playful banter and quiet, fleeting conversation. What you dont see is that every time you walk by, bumping your hip against mine, is that I watch you walk away. I can see the scars across your skinny arms and legs, I can trace that place on your body where you’ve carved a message to the world. I allow myself to dream, for those precious five seconds, that you will turn around and meet my eyes.

You never do.

You talk to me daily, unaware that my answers have been carefully crafted over late, sleepless nights. Every question you might ask I’ve already thought of. Answered wittily. Became a person much cleverer and suave and worldly than I am, because I want to impress you. To be like you.

But the funny thing is, you’re the one person I can completely be myself with.

But you are not perfect. You are angry, you are fucked up beyond belief. But I’m here. I want to care for you. I want to hold you when you are weary, I want to cry when you are sad. I want those other girls in your life to fade into the background and become part of the crowd, and I want to stand out because to you, I want to believe, I am perfect. I am not too short or too round and plainfaced and short sighted with unmanageable hair. I am simply perfect.

And in exactly 22 days from the time of this note, if you still haven’t noticed me, then I’ll do it. On the last day in the picturesque little summer sea town where we met, I’ll kiss you by the big old maple where we first talked this year, when I got my favorite shirt dirty helping you do a job I wasn’t even on duty for. Maybe you’ll laugh at me, so bold and forthcoming where I am normally reserved. But maybe, just maybe, you will kiss me back. And you will say the words I’ve longed to hear since I used to watch you shuffle fast food back and forth many summers before:

I love you.
because I love you, too.

From: People in the Sun, Baltimore, USA
Ten years ago today we met. I already wrote about that day here, but ended that post with my date taking a cab back home.

I’ll never forget, the next day, seeing Honey sitting outside the tube station waiting for me (even though I was early). We sat outside a bar, across the street from the Dublin Castle and then we went to see Swingers. That’s our movie. We continued walking in Camden for a while and I asked her if she wanted to come over and watch TV. I swear that’s what I meant, too. I just figured she was fun and it would be fun to watch King of the Hill with her.

We then listened to music and didn’t talk much. Then “Broken Heart” started playing and Honey started to cry. And I said, “I’m going to regret this,” and I kissed her.

I’ve tried to analyze this moment for the last ten years, and historians will continue my unfinished work, but I’m still not sure why I said that or what made me kiss her, just like she’s not sure why she started to cry.

Did my kiss have anything to do with subconscious male chauvinism? Did I think she wanted me to kiss her because of some kind of male fantasy of a weak female saved by her superhero man? Did her tears make me feel stronger? Was my kiss meant to save my princess? That bastard Jung made me think about that. I read Man and his Symbols and realized maybe I didn’t kiss her because I was a sensitive man but because I was an arrogant pig like the rest of them.

But I can leave all of that for the historians. Whether she cried because the idea of going back alone to America was breaking her heart or because on King of the Hill Bobby was forced to smoke an entire carton of cigarettes doesn’t matter today. And whether I kissed her because I wanted to save her or because I wanted her to save me is also meaningless, after all. Because now, ten years later, the love of my life is smarter, funnier, and more beautiful than ever, and I’ve had the best ten years of my life, and our best days together are yet to come.

And she’s pregnant, too, which is really cool. And more than likely, I’m the father.

People in the Sun

From: Sheldon, 15, MI
To: Nicole, 20, MI

Hello Dien,
Why does it seem to be that I find the words to say long after we’ve departed? I don’t understand it. When you gave me that hug today, all I wanted was for you to never let go…but I didn’t realize it until I was home, sitting at this computer desk yet again.
Why do I find myself writing you letters everywhere? Why am I constantly stealing things from places to bring to you..when I know that you’ll never actually get them?
You know, I have a box of things for you. And about you. It’s been in my room since February. I told you about it once, but you didn’t seem to get the picture, I don’t think. You asked me about it later, and I told you it didn’t mean anything…I fell a bit stupid for it…
I don’t even know what to say about us anymore. It’s so hard for me to just be friends with you, when I want so much more. I know I always will. And yeah, you’re 20, but I really and honestly don’t care. I never have. Anyone who has a problem with it can choke themselves with a spork.
Seeing you is hard, but not seeing you is harder. And now you’re moving tomorrow, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. Why didn’t you tell me the time was creeping up so fast? It hurts so bad, and I don’t think you can even fathom the magnitude of pain…
I see these love letters getting shorter, and I see the love of my life slowly slipping away. I see my family slowly drifting away from me, and I see the hate and discriminating I will always get…

Please stay happy, and keep in touch.

Sheldon

From: Stephan Rinke, 23 years, Würzburg, Germany
To: Shiloe Mokay, 21 years, Huntingdon, PA, USA

Do you remember how we met? Of course you do. It would have been certainly easier to meet while we were studying at the same college, but by chance - or maybe by destiny - we were supposed to meet on a very different location. It almost sounds like a fairy tale.

I don’t know what I expected when I went to Paris for New Years to visit my friends. Sure - the city of love. What did I care? I just wanted to have some fun. But when the year changed and I kissed you while I was holding you in my arms I felt like the happiest person alive. It wasn’t the place, it wasn’t the time - it was simply you.

You were hesitant to come to Paris to visit people you barrely knew. If you would not have come - how would my life be today? When you think that you have found the love of your life how can you possibly imagine not being with her?

When you entered the room I was stunned. From then on all I wanted to do was being close to you. All these silly things you say when you are nervous and don’t know what to talk about… I was lucky that you liked me instantly too. When we went to that club and I put my arm around you I already knew it will work and it will be different than with other girls. The three days that we spent together changed something enterily in my life.

How would I know what you really felt for me?

How can you miss somebody that much when you have only known her for three days? I didn’t know.

All I knew was that I had to see you again because you had touched my heart like nobody else before. Therefore I just got my car, drove seven hourse and came to visit you without announcing it three weeks later. I will never forget the expression on your face when I entered the room and surprised you… Oh, I was a mess. Shaking and nervously standing there and not knowing how you would react. But when you came to me in tears and kissed me I knew it was worth it… You know how it went from then.

I love you more than ever and I do not doubt that this long distance thing will work. The two month that you spent with me at my appartment was the happiest time of my life.

I love you Shiloe, and I hope this thing makes you happy because that is how you make me feel and I would be glad if I could give a tiny thing back.

Your love,
Stephan

From: Hanna DiRossi, 28, Georgia
To: Michael DiRossi, 30, My hubby of 10 years, Georgia, USA

Mike,

I know it will not be long before you are home again, but I must tell you what your absence does to me. When I slip under the covers, the chill of your absence caresses me in places where you once caressed me through the night. I cuddle up with myself and wrap my arms tight around myself, imagining that it was indeed you who was holding me close, touching my breasts, and keeping my body secure and safe.

When I wake in the morning, I kiss the pillow where your sweet face usually lies and I strum my fingers through the image of you that I have in my mind. Baby, please come home soon. The day I said I do, and the night my body melted into yours was the day that I became one with you.
One flesh, my love. I need you, I want you, I miss you.

I know you have only been gone for three days, but these past three days have been lonely without you. You are coming home tonight. This makes me happy, joyful, and excited. My love will overflow for you tonight. Come home, honey… Your lady is waiting.

All my love,
Hanna
( http://www.decoratorinside.com/ )