Dear stranger.

Sometimes, I lay in bed twirling my hair from the thoughts of you slipping inside my mind.

The way you wrap yourself around me from behind like a cocoon, the way you stare at me when the sun hits my eyes just right exposing my eye colors like a kaleidoscope, the way your mustache tickles my skin as you smother my neck with the scent of you.

I thought I knew what handsome was, I didn’t know handsome was you.

I don’t like getting my hopes up, especially with an extraordinary being such as yourself. Sometimes I wonder what you could possibly see in me. Then I remember you’re not the only extraordinary being in the room anymore because I’m extraordinary too.

I keep thinking about what happens if it all fails, what happens if it doesn’t work out?

What if it doesn’t fail? What if it all works out? Isn’t that is what life is about? Taking chances and taking risks? What’s life without the risk to love? Life is more than retirement plans and mediocre hobbies to entertain thyself on a Friday night. Life is about sleeping with adventure, being betrothed by experiences, making love on a 15th story balcony over looking the ocean.

Life is more than playing it safe. Life is about gambling for the best version of yourself.

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