Love Letters.

I want the man who writes me love letters,
And songs, whether or not he knows how.
This is the man who drives all night to see me.
Because he is the man who sees me
Better than I see myself.
When I forget who I am, this man is there, lovingly, patiently, reminding me.
I want the man who can cherish my gifts, honor my purpose, and invite my power.
While never being afraid to lead.
He always listens to my words, my sounds, my body,
So that each day he can be my best ally,
And each night he can dance me to a divine oblivion.
I want the man who often asks what I want from him,
Not to honor my desires, but to exceed them.
This man is relaxed and ready;
He’s the man who knows himself.
He turns toward his problems confidently, hungrily, humbly,
Not wanting to win anything or bother being right.
This man faces his mistakes, owns them, learns, and laughs.
He keeps no secrets.
Because there is nothing for which this man will sacrifice his integrity.
He understands that this, integrity, is his truest power source.
This is a man expansive as he is deep.
He has come out from behind insecurities, doubts, and hypotheticals
To play the biggest game he can.
He doesn’t wait, he doesn’t hope; he acts, he leads.
This man is great, and knows it. But he doesn’t bother with that either.
He has too much living to do.
This is the man fueled not by ambition, adrenaline, or fear,
But by the unstoppable rush of his own life force.
This man exists.
Not once, but a billion times over.
Just as I am every woman who believes in love,
This is every man who reads these words
And feels something in him stir.
love letters

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