A proposal.

Karthik,

I write this letter not because I wish to hide myself under a cloak of obscurity, nor do I aim to charm under the guise of anonymity. I am who I am and much as I yearn for your acceptance I fear I cannot change myself for you. I am skipping ahead here, let me tell you the purpose of this letter. I write this letter to tell you that I love you. There is nothing extraordinary or admirable about my love. I love you for selfish reasons. I love you for the silliest reasons. I fear they would make little sense to you. But, I am not afraid of rejection. I also do not promise to lead a life pining for you, should you refuse.

I am neither sentimental nor emotional. I detest anything pink and I think romance is for the mentally weak. Or so I used to think until I met you. Now, I seem to yearn for mere moments spent in your company. I dislike this yearning. I close my eyes at night and you appear in my dreams. I wish to not dream so. I also would like to give the giggly girl you were flirting with yesterday, a black eye. I wish also to make myself disappear, should you hold her hand tomorrow. I should also mention now that I will be a jealous wife, reasonably jealous - after all isn't that part of what defines passion?

I confuse myself with my feelings for you. I do not think you are particularly attractive. I just like the way your hair falls over your left eye. I do not think you are tall enough or muscular enough - just that I spend five minutes every day imagining my head leaning on your shoulders. I think you have a pretty irregular face, not as chiseled a chin as I would like, nor as sharp a nose. Yet, I cannot bear to glance away when your eye steals my sight. I do not necessarily understand these feelings. I do not believe that I would have to. After all, love is not something to be understood or defined. Love is what an old married couple feel when they take their slow evening walk to the temple, not hand in hand, not even talking to each other - it is what each silent moment is filled with, between them, all around them. Or so I imagine. I could be wrong. All I ask of you is this - if I am wrong, will you spend your life with me, telling me what is right?

I do believe I love you. If this is not love, will you be by my side and teach me to love?

Yours
Anuradha

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