Dear Juliet,
Let me start off by saying that this isn’t really my thing.
Not writing - that I’m very comfortable doing.
Not even being open and honest about my life - I’ve been doing that for far too long without even being asked to.
What isn’t my thing is writing a letter to a fictional person. Because my usual M.O. is to have my fictional characters talk to real people through my stories. That is how I catharsize. And that is how I turn a noun into a verb.
Hey English language - you work for me.
So, a disclaimer: this letter is being written purely out of spontaneity which could run out any minute. Let’s see how far we get.
It’s also being written because it’s a new adventure we’re introducing here at Launchora for the Launchers Playground (have you tried that yet?) so I sort of have to get the ball rolling. But you knew this already, didn’t you, Juliet?
So. Love. Ah. Freaking magical, that’s what it is. Or so I hear. I mean, I’m no expert - you supposedly are - but it’s supposed to be awesome right? Or have we hyped it too much? Because whenever I’ve been in ‘love’, it’s almost been perfect. I mean sure, it did have its moments of perfection, but they were too rare and far apart when I look back.
It’s like when you really miss some food item (I’m not a 'foodie' - feels weird even typing that - so excuse my disinterest in using better words in my food metaphor), and you can’t wait to have it, and when you actually do, it almost tastes exactly like what you imagined. But that 'almost' really rustles the tiny feathers in your brain until you reach the end of the meal and wonder why you wanted to eat this thing in the first place. Because it's not as good as it could be. Like you wanted. Maybe at that other restaurant...
Sure, maybe it’s my fault for hyping this food item - wait, we're back to talking about love - but that seems to be a full-on contagion-level problem with most of my peers. The love thing, I mean. Don't get lost in my metaphors.
So, how do we actually go about solving love? The ideal and easy answer seems to be to just shut up and not bitch about it. Why? Because everything we see and hear about this topic goes along something like this...
"Love is a gift."
“There’s someone out there for you."
“Love is a miracle."
"It’s a gold-crusted poopiscle."
No, that’s not a typo.
So how, dare I ask, do we find a solution to a problem that is unique to each and every individual? Well, since there’s no one else writing this with me, how about I give you my side of the story, and then we’ll see if you have anything to say.
I’m not going to get into anything specific here. I’ve already done that in a much longer letter to a non-fictional person in a semi-fictional way in my story Letters To My Future Wife (yeah, I see no shame in plugging my own stories).
Don’t worry, reading that isn’t a pre-requisite to what I’m about to say next. And nooo, I’m not going to drag this letter to 10 chapters either...
Wait - I’m almost running out of that spontaneity juice. And this innate desire to be funny in a casual (I woke up writing like this) but effective way isn’t really helping me stay focused.
What was that? You think I’m stalling? Now why would I do that?
What? You really think I don’t actually want to reveal anything real in this?
That’s blasph...
Fine. Maybe you’re right. Don’t get so cocky. It's beneath you.
Okay. Let’s make a deal. Something that works to both of our sensibilities. I’m going to tell you what I really think - the truth from my perspective about my love life - nay, my love conundrum - my lovundrum, if you will - and then you can choose to acknowledge it or not, disagree with me or not, help me with it or not.
Deal?
Are you ready?
Are you sitting down in your fictional chair?
Here we go...
...I have high standards.
(...I'm not finished...)
...and...
...I also fall in love quite easily.
Okay, not the best place to start...but stay with me. And you're completely welcome to judge me throughout this if you weren't already.
Look, since this is truth-time, let me say that this lovundrum (you're totally going to start using this word in your daily life, aren't you?) is more of a side-effect of my line of work. And yes, that is also a great excuse. But it is also true.
I love writing. And I love writing about love because it fascinates me (can't you tell?). I'd tell you exactly what about it fascinates me but that would involve me un-shamelessly plugging most of the stories I've written in the last year. So just assume that I absolutely am in love with love.
And therein lies the problem - my fictional life has merged so seamlessly with my personal life that I really can't let go of it when I punch out the clock at the wee-hours of the morning.
That's an old-timely factory-worker reference for you kids.
So not only do I really, really think about who I want to fall in love with, I also at the same time believe that there is something to love in every girl I meet.
By the way, before you think I'm crazy, please know that I don't think about this all the time.
Just during work hours.
Anyway, so now you must be wondering how I survive dating in the real world when the fictional one in my head is so much better?
Well, that's when I use the world I create to my advantage. Because my stories create three wonderful by-products:
Hope,
Faith,
and...
Optimistic Realism.
See, this real world - is quite ridiculous. It really sucks sometimes. So my fictional world really helps me feel good about the potential of this real world.
So really, the thing is this: I really believe that I'll someday meet the absolute right person for me.
However, I am also super self-aware that this day could be any day, so it's really up to me to recognize and pursue the right opportunity.
Moreover, I give myself full permission to fall in love with someone due to some reason that makes sense at the moment, and then completely change my mind when I realize that this person isn't the one I want to write love stories for and about for the rest of my life.
And if almost 14 years of experiments with love has taught me anything, it is this -
I know what love means to me. I know what it is. I also know what it isn't.
So when I do see a glimmer of it, I'm going to give it a shot. I'm going to try. I'm going to work to make it happen and keep it going for as long as I can.
Because that is one of the things that life and love have in common -
You have to work hard to make it through either of them.
And only then, maybe, just maybe, if you're really lucky, you'll have moments of unquantifiable, custom-made-for-you-only, don't-look-directly-at-it-for-its-too-beautiful perfection that will make all that effort worth it.
That's it. That's the end of my side of the story. My lovundrum (that word doesn't exist in all of the internet, so I basically just invented a word nbd). I can't believe you let me monologue through this whole letter.
Alright, now it's your turn to talk. I just remembered that having a conversation was the whole point of this 'Letter to Juliet' adventure.
So, my dear Juliet, what do you think?