Love Letter to Mr. B; Reader Be Warned–It Is Mushy

To my darling Mr. B:

You were head over heels in love with me before we started dating.  You knew we would eventually marry.  I was young, immature, and reticent to absolve all future potential endeavors of love.  My thinking was rational but love had a different idea.  I felt the first inkling one night,  a few months into dating you.   You may remember this night,  it was the first time you sang to me.

You stopped the car by my front door,  grabbed my hand before I could open the door,  and told me you had a present for me.

You grabbed a CD, put it into your CD player,  pressed skip until you found the song you were looking for.  I breathlessly waited,  wondering what you had in store.  When I heard the first bar,  I recognized the melody.  While caressing my hand,  you sang,  in your melodious tenor,  our song,  our first song:  “How Forever Feels.”  I was entranced.

A year later,  I forlornly waved good-bye as you embarked on a 2 year mission in the service of our Lord and Savior.   I was soon packing my own bags to head to college.

In your absence, I devoted millions of tears to your memory.  That first year   I only listened to upbeat music devoid of any love references.  I thrust your presence from my mind.

Yet,  my body and spirit ached for our reunion.

When you had 6 months left,  I turned on our songs again.  I still couldn’t bear to listen to our first song,  so I listened to one  song that brightened my life: Here’s to the Night.  Yes, I cried but I was drawn to this song like a moth to open fire.  It brought peace and anguish.  Most of all, it brought love to my thirsty soul.

When you came home,  we resumed our plans for marriage.  We felt no need to postpone the inevitable so we arranged for a quiet, private ceremony to be held a few weeks thence.

Do you remember taking my hand,  leading me to the dance floor,  and holding my body close as we danced to our wedding song?  Do you remember singing along with Clint Black‘s crooning voice,

When I said I do,  I meant that I will ’til the end of all time

Be faithful and true,  devoted to you

That’s what I had in mind,  when I said I do

Do you remember kissing my neck whispering in my ear how much you loved me?

I do.  I still tremble when thinking about your sweet touch that first night.

Here we are,  two years and two kids later.  Since our lives are busy with the preoccupations that accompany “the real world” and parenting,  we have turned to a song with sultry lyrics.  A song that arouses passion while capturing the muted tones representing our love.

We have turned to The Closer I Get To You.

Mr. B, I love you more now than I did when we were first married.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Love,

Your Eternal Wife

This is part of Momalom’s Love It Up challenge as well as Chocolate on My Cranium’s Wordfull Wednesday: Love Songs .

Please Be Mine, Dear Swing

Dear Swing,

I wasn’t sure of you at first.  Your bulk seemed too much for our little living space,  your utility not yet discovered.  I thought you would be gone before the end of the week.

I was wrong.

Too soon,  Manly developed colic.  I rocked and rocked but could not console.  I passed him off to Mr. B.  His patience worn thin,  he placed Manly inside your welcoming arms.

He was asleep within seconds.

This seemed a minor fluke, so we tried again the next night.  You succeeded in proving us wrong.

From that time forward, you rocked Manly.  He slept without interruption for hours at a time.  You became our beacon of sleep.

All too soon you showed your weakness: batteries.  With your life slowly dwindling, I slept on the couch, manually pushing the swing.  The batteries needed to bring electric juices in your weary body were put at the top of our grocery list.  With life restored, you resumed your place as Manly’s bed.

When Manly’s colic diminished, I took over, thinking I could do better.  Now, my tired eyes look over your shiny, metallic skin.  I think pleasureful thoughts of sleep filled nights.

I know I have neglected you, but I promise to do better.  If I buy you batteries, will you be mine again?

Love,

Amber

This letter is part of Momalom‘s Love It Up challenge.