because you never gave me the chance to give you this...

for your birthday i thought i'd write you a letter, or note or what have you. unrehearsed, and all truth; i can't promise i won't be a sap because well - that's just me.

first and foremost happy birthday. hope your day was/is good and your presents satisfying - especially mine. twenty three, twenty three years old. ain't that weird? they say older = wiser - let's hope!

friday the 13th, met in the flesh.
finally.
all that time wasted being nervous, shy and afraid to find out that none of it mattered. i can still hear your voice singing along to "This Armistice" while parked at timmys, and remember the way you blushed after i kissed your cheak when you dropped me off.

i'm trying so hard to hold back and not spill my guts for you -
thinking of the right words to say.
i love how we are so understanding with eachother, so honest. i could tell you anything and it's understood.
oh we'd make a great pair
(don't worry i already know....)
yet it still doesn't stop me from saying all these things to you.
oh, why me.
why you.
why this mess.
i love how you seem to know all my moves, because you were completely right, i did just want to hold your hand.
i love it when we're parked somewhere together; the way you look at me --
i could melt. (oh your blue eyes)
and if i don't look away i fear i may kiss you; uncontrollably, and let my hands go where they want.

thoughts of you occupy my day constantly; and listening to music is now different. i could make a list of songs that i swear were written about us. songs which i've loved all along are finally understood. understood because i can relate, we relate.

that night, while parked at the "sexwall" park, when your head was pressed up against the steering wheel and i was reclined back in the seat was the most distant we've ever been, and it showed me how much of a jerk you aren't.
(as much as you beg to differ - i know better)

....and you make me laugh, "i know you're tired because your hands are at 10&2"

you are lovely you know.
i could write about you forever

and i know i must sound like a broken record, but your lips feel so good.
especially that night.
you kissed me harder
and you know where i felt it.
oh! what i would give to feel that again
and again
and again...
and again.
i remember when i first saw you. a picture of a cute emo boy with shaggy black hair, a pale complexion and a sad face. a boy who was art and music. (and because of your status i decided to not bother)
a few days later, a message from that boy -- that cute boy with the blue eyes, who liked good music, who drew sad pictures and wrote poetry i didn't understand --
that boy who i wanted to know.
fast forward a few years, and i think we know eachother quite well. and understand eachother even better.

oh ryan, all this just to wish you a happy birthday. (a day you claim to hate but i don't buy that!)
you can be as selfish as you'd please and no one can say a thing about it -- so soak it up

23 and alive -- enjoy it.

<3 always
Vanessa*