《Dear Stranger: Letters to Her》


 Will you be mine?

    Dear Stranger,


    I find myself in a draught of words. Thoughts escape me. Emotions refuse to be put into phrases. As if I am nothing but a tangled web of feelings.


    I cannot seem to find where to start. Well... I guess that''s your influence on me.


    I am a writer. I should have been able to come up with witty ways to express myself to you. And yet. Here I am, rambling on about everything and nothing. Perhaps it''s the nervousness, the possibility, the fear of the unknown holding me back? What if you say no?


    And yet. Here I am. Writing. Because, whatever the outcome may be. It''s better to have tried and failed than to have not tried at all.


    So... the first time we met?


    I was nervous as fuck. I went on and on and kept talking. I don''t usually do that. Ever. If you''d met someone from my office. They might tell you that there is a chance I was secretly a mute person. As they haven''t actually seen me talk. Just typing on the keyboard staring dead at the screen.


    I used to be a boring guy until recently. With a boring job and 9 to 5 dead eyes look. Do you know what changed?


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    I met you.


    You were.. so sudden, so genuine, so....you. I was prepared for the world to have ended with the pandemic tbh. And yet, I wasn''t prepared for you. Do you know the best thing I like about you?


    It''s not just your cute way to say "thenk yeww" it''s not just the sudden heart-melting smile I''ve seen you do. It''s not just the unyielding strength I see in you.


    It''s the way you make me feel. You make me feel happy. You make me smile.


    That''s...


    That has not happened before. Somehow, it has always ended up being me with the task to make others happy. I don''t resent that. It''s just.. I''ve always wanted... there to be a time.. only if once in my life.. when someone made me feel happy too, you know?


    Is it selfish? I don''t know.


    And then you baked me a cake for my birthday. No one has ever done that. Heck, more than half the people that claim to know me didn''t know it was my birthday.


    Is it pathetic to share that? I don''t care.


    I''m okay with being vulnerable in front of you.


    All I know is I could go on talking to you for hours without end without having something to talk about. You make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.


    I am not a person that can do grand gestures. I am not rich. Not even close tbh. Nothing comes to mind to say with certainty that I can offer you which other guys can''t.


    You and I...it was a chance meeting. That blind date.


    And yet. Here we are. Coming back to each other. Getting addicted. Somehow entangled anyway.


    Perhaps there is something called luck after all. Or is it fate? Idk


    All I do know is that I care about you so much that it frightens me. And that, I..have fallen for you. Too soon? Well.. tell that to my heart that couldn''t wait. And now it''s too late to back down.


    So, babe,


    Will you be mine?

 Kiss Me, Valentine

    Dear Stranger,


    It''s valentines day.


    All these years this day has arrived sneakily and passed by anonymously with no event of particular note.


    For some reason, this feels different.


    Maybe it''s my new job as a digital branding exec that makes me abreast of the trending events. Or maybe it''s the numerous reels on my feed and showoff stories on my socials.


    But perhaps, it''s you.


    This valentines, I feel a bubbling anticipation in me that I have felt only once before. Back when the universe decided to slap me in the face with a caffeinated dose of adolescent first love. Well, that''s a core memory to sour the mood.


    I used to be so awkward and anxious all the time back then. I mean, I still am.. but at least I don''t give a fuck anymore of "what will people say".


    With time... you are forced to grow up. You fall in love. Your hearts shatter to million fragments. And each time you stare blankly at the aftermath, picking up the pieces, you die a little more. You learn to see the patterns in people. You learn to see through the fake smiles, the false pretenses, the easy familiarity. And you build a wall. A tall strong wall without end, obscuring your heart from getting broken again. Is that escapism? Perhaps. But better than that pain again, right?


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    And then, someday, a stranger comes along. Of all the things, it''s a blind dates. It was supposed to be just another failed trial. I mean, you have been on dates before. You know how this goes.


    And yet.


    You don''t see the sands of time slipping you by in the moment you spend with her. Somehow that moment turns out to be an hour and half long. The date ends. But you are left confused, curious and yearning for more.


    ''Where did the time go?


    What is it about her?


    You never talk this much, so what was it back then??'' You murmur to yourself.


    After all this time of carrying around a void inside you. Finally.


    Finally, you feel something.


    You don''t know what it is yet.


    How could you? It''s been too long.


    So you talk. You meet. You explore that feeling. And somehow, every time you hear her voice. You find yourself just that bit closer to her than the starting point.


    ''What is this? This.. magnetism.''


    It was a chance encounter that you met, and yet, somehow, you two are drawn towards each other, hopelessly, unceasingly.


    And then. One day.


    Your lips meet.


    Gravity frees you.


    It grows inside you. In the numb void where your heart used to be, a precious, precious spark. Blooming.. flowering.. into a new heart. Tethered, connected to another, beating across the city from you. Far, but still, right there.


    ''What is this.. sensation? What is this foreign expression on my face? Why are my lips stretched just so...


    Ah,


    I remember...


    It''s a smile. ''


    ''This is dangerous'' you think. ''She has more power over me than I anticipated'' You panic.


    "Hey, you okay?" You hear that magnetic voice again, reeling you back to the present.


    You see her just waiting for you there, smiling a bit mischievously because of that suddenly stolen kiss. You look into those radiantly brown eyes and all your worries melt away.


    ''Fuck it'' you surrender,


    ''let''s fall together then''..

 Massages and Daydreams

    Dear Stranger,


    I loved your samosas.


    Wait, that didn''t sound right.


    Moving on...To be candid, I''ve never really been much fond of the nationwide favourite delicacy enjoyed by more than a billion head count.


    I''m usually more of a idli or sambhar vada guy. However, I can''t believe I actually loved it. Just to be sure, I tried samosas again today, just to see if my picky taste buds have suddenly decided to rewrite their mood. But nah. It was not to be. I still dislike samosas. So, how.. or why.. did I scarfed down more than half the box yesterday?


    Perhaps because you are particularly good at it? Or maybe because you made it..? Man.. at this rate my affection for you is going to spin Outta control. Calm Down Me!


    On a different note.. remember we jokingly talked about learning how to massage?


    Yeah. I''ve been actually doing that.


    Usually, my go to way to learn any new thing is by doing extensive research through reading SME''s(subject matter expert''s) articles on the topic. Strange enough, this methodology finally failed me. I apologize to all the masseuse out there for taking the topic too lightly.


    Stolen story; please report.


    "It''s just massage, how hard could it be?"...


    That''s what I thought. And then watched the videos. There is a plethora of techniques to just warm up the muscles. Then there are various ways to massage like with oil for warmth and relaxation and with friction and force for better knot kneading. The experts make it look so easy, but you could just see from the fluently practiced motions of their hands about the time it must have taken to master, and that it''s anything but easy.


    No matter. I will not back down. I have started it. I will learn it. Obsession over learning random talents is basically all that I''m good at.


    You know, scrolling down the "beginner''s massage guide" videos on YT, I started daydreaming, like I always do, about using these techniques on you.


    I see myself undoing the clasps on your bra for better access, then, slathering a generous layer of mildly warm oil on your back to gently warming up your muscles and skin with slow motion, as goosebumps rise up on your arms. And as you lie on your back facing down, starting to work on your neck in slow but firm strokes of my long bony fingers digging deep in you and making my way down.. Slowly slowly increasing the force of the movement to undo the knots in your shoulder blades. Moving so in a rhythmic movement bit by bit commiting more of my body weight to it, as you let out a shivering whimper..


    Alright that''s enough. Calm down. Calm Down Me! Deep breaths.


    Phew...


    I did not sleep yesterday night. At all. No need to guess why. Its quite obvious really. And as I sit in my office right now, writing this letter to you, I wonder, even if only sometimes, do you think about me too?


    Man..


    I miss you so.. damn much.


    Only Yours

 Trees and Fantasies

    Dear Muskan,


    Another sleepless night. Well, does having less sleep than the desired count as sleepless? I mean, technically, it does complete the wording logic of "sleep-less".


    No? Ah, well.


    I still wrote a blog though. Sleepy as fuck I might''ve been.. work is work. It was about the world''s largest trees. Well, more like a travel guide to the redwoods national park in California which is the home to those trees.


    Did you know that the tallest tree on the planet is 115.7 meters tall??


    I kid you not, it''s true!


    I can''t even begin to imagine the scale.. then there is the Avenue of the giants, a road that goes through the forest.


    Just imagine for a moment with me okay?


    Imagine yourself sitting passenger side in the open roof car, your hair a mess, dancing along with the playful wind, some old classic is playing on the radio, which you''d have usually loved to listen to but here you turn it down the instant you enter the Avenue of the Giants, unconsciously.


    Somehow, your subconscious knows that it would be disrespectful.


    The melody of nature is music enough for the right pair of ears anyway.


    You sit stunned, mouth agape, looking up, and up and up in a bid to find the canopy, only to see the slumbering giants holding up the sky.


    It''s just trees. You may say. It''s just wood, just nature. You may try to convince yourself.


    But the ethereal magnificence of the moment tells you otherwise. For here lay the trail through the old world. The tallest trees in the world, some ancient enough to be dating back to 2000 years ago.


    I would love to be able to go there once in my life.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    The day, or what was left of it after working tirelessly for hours, went by in a blink, in daydreams of hiking through the ancient forest.


    If I were to be reborn in a different dimension with the fantasy genre, with my memories intact from this life, which species would I be I wonder? If it''s the cliche setting, then there''d be elves, both kind, i.e. the tree huggers who usually have veganism plus all hail the trees kind of thing going on, and then there are dark elves, who are dark? I don''t really know what there deal it to be honest. They are.. the cool cousins among their kind, I guess?


    I could be a dwarf? The often drunk yet stupidly sturdy assholes with amazing craftsmanship and a secretly kind heart.


    Perhaps a demon? No. Not a demon. They tend to die in hordes as soon as some Hero spawns along.


    Or just human? But like in a noble family, with lots of money, beautiful maids, lots of books, and course, as a student of the magic academy. I mean, there has to be a magic academy. What''s the point of a magic world if it doesn''t have a magic academy??


    Or maybe, I could be the hero.. the rags to riches story of a guy with a tragic backstory and a glowing sword.....


    Nope. Just nope. I ain''t gonna be a hero. Heroes tend to die too. To make the story more interesting? Or perhaps to let the next generation of heroes spawn along, in a bid to take vengeance against the demons?


    So heroes suck. Demons suck twice. But what about... a merchant?


    Everybody needs a merchant. Even the royal demons must need toilet paper to wipe their royal asses right?


    As long as you can fake a smile for work... Which I have to do on daily basis to get through the day at the office.. so yeah.


    The merchant seems right. But.. you know, a traveling merchant. Who is an orphan, with his parents killed(supposedly) when he was like 2 or 3? His sizeable inheritance lets him get by fine enough. Also, a talented ex-student of the prestigious national magic academy. Expelled, for beating the shit out of a noble''s brat, who happened to be the best at magic among students(formerly), on the magical dueling arena. The noble brat arranges for our lead''s inheritance frozen and cat killed in retaliation. Which in turn would have led our main lead to transform into John Wick and go on a killing spree. If not for being told not to make matters worse by his on and off love interest, who in turn has a crush over the noble brat.


    And now this young, handsome merchant of a small business of enchanted items on a moving caravan. Who is usually seen either brooding or reading a book? But is secretly a talented battle mage. Because you have to be a battle mage. I mean if you''re going to learn magic. It might as well be battle magic right?


    Wait...


    Wait a minute.


    Tragic backstory? Check.


    Magically talented? Check.


    Mysterious past? Double-check.


    Did I.. just make my parallel self the perfect hero candidate??


    God damnit!


    Tuesdays are weird.

 Missing you (NSFW)

    Dear Stranger,


    I miss the curl of your lips


    when you hold back a smile,


    I miss the spark in your eyes


    when you talk about art.


    I miss the blush on your cheeks


    akin to rapidly ripening tomato.


    I miss the laugh


    you bring out of me


    a genuine thing,


    in humor dusted dry,


    sucked sapless by society,


    I miss the acceptance in your eyes,


    a balm to my anxiety..


    I miss the days of bored nothingness,


    I miss the lack of quarrel or strife..


    I miss tracing the lines on your palm,


    seeking my proper place in your life..


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    I miss


    the us


    of our outrageous


    adventures in public,


    the playing


    the giggling


    the gasp


    and the look


    astonished


    unblinking


    excited


    as my hands unthinking


    caress your thighs,


    you biting your lips,


    with hips


    clenched tight,


    pretending modesty,


    as proper and right,


    and my hands


    keep playing


    rubbing over your lingerie


    over and over


    like clockwork,


    like clockwork,


    as I dig in


    to your core,


    dripping wet with juices,


    the aroma enticing,


    yet my hands work


    still


    unceasing,


    unceasing under the table,


    fingering,


    lingering just a moment longer,


    so daring,


    uncaring any other,


    a partition


    to cover in


    pretending


    a modicum


    of falsified normalcy,


    my teasing unruly,


    hiding in


    a corner of cafe


    familiar..


    I miss the death glare


    of embarrassment


    sent my way..


    When I teasingly lick


    my fingers anyway..


    I miss ditching the dinner


    running up the stairs,


    rushing in,


    undressing,


    beginning the storm,


    ravaging our room,


    I miss your hiss


    of sweet pain


    tremulous


    in my entering inside you,


    I miss your kiss


    of wild hot passion


    untamed,


    bereft your social grace,


    in the safety


    of me laying beside you..


    I miss the rain


    the flashes of thunder,


    the backdrop of nature


    the melody of moaning


    as I tear you asunder..


    I miss the music


    that screaming


    and begging you craft,


    I miss you licking


    mischievous,


    lavisciously my shaft,


    I miss your craving for me,


    that excitement, obsession..


    I miss your shivering


    skins shimmering


    with droplets


    of sweat


    passionate intensely


    in rhythm exertion..


    I miss your neck


    your shoulders your lips,


    your legs, your thighs,


    your mounds, your hips,


    I miss seeing


    the curves on your body


    drinking you in


    with thirst insatiable,


    licking my way down,


    playing with your breasts,


    tasting your juices,


    eating you up,


    desire so deep


    a hunger irresistible..


    But above all I miss you,


    I miss you,


    I miss you,


    I miss you for love.


    I miss our days drunken


    lusty and steamy,


    and I miss that you cannot


    you cannot


    you cannot


    you cannot forever


    be here with me..

 Selfish love

    Dear Stranger,


    Times have been turbulent recently. Mind a chaos of confusion. There has just been one after stone thrown causing random yet repeatitive interference in the calm lake that signifies our relationship. I hated the last two weeks.


    I have not slept well. If at all. You can see the dark circles around my eyes, or maybe the constantly tapping feet showcasing my well veiled anxiety. Perhaps you can see my unsteady hands or confused mind? I have felt like I have been going crazy.


    It felt nice and comfortable and happy when we used to meet often. Now we somehow end up disagreeing over the smallest things, arguing over nothings. Then there is the long intervals where I can''t see you or kiss you. I don''t know how it makes you feel but I just feel like tearing everything and everyone apart when I have stay away from you too long.


    I can''t make you understand the importance of your presence in my life. I have tried. But, it''s not been enough to truly make you realize. Words can never explain to you the mess that my inner concious is right now. Everything is happening at once. In dark nothingness. There should be patience in me. There should be calm. But now I find none of that left in me. I have overdrawn on my ability to let things be. I have dried up the well of patience. I have started becoming cold to things again. I have started to feel less again. I have begun losing my touch or care for the world or the people in it. The other day I saw an accident, people get curious, people try to help, people stop and call someone, me? I just swerved around the scene not giving it a second glance earphones still stuffed in my ears, listening and humming along to bethoven.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    There is a book called "The art of not giving a fuck."..or something? I feel as if I am the muse to that one.


    You see the paras above? It''s all about just I, Me, Me.


    This is how I get when I get numb. I become the center of my world. I become numb to outward stigmas.


    I miss you. I miss being able to be around you often. I miss meeting you often. I miss kissing you randomly. I miss pulling your hairs and fucking you till your legs shake. I miss you screaming my name telling me to choke you. I miss your tongue playing with my penis, your lips taking it all in a rhythmic fashion. I miss the day you slathered cake all over your body and looked up at me shyly from the bed, baring it all for me to consume.


    I miss the day we first met, so full of uncertainty yet expectant still. I miss the day you declared yourself mine. I miss the feel of your lips on mine, claiming me so unexpectedly. I miss when You and I became us.


    I miss our past, I miss the present, I miss every moment I''ve spent with you. And expectant of all the moments that have yet to come.


    I know you will have to leave me. But until then? I hope that I could have all of you to me.


    PS: Got to sleeeeeep


    Only yours

 Insomnia and Insecurities

    Dear Stranger,


    Insomnia is a bitch. While I struggle to loosen up and just have some rest in my day off, I still smile despite myself remembering that I''ve beaten Monday!


    Monday day offs are the best there are. Made superior by beginning my morning with seeing your sleepy face. You looked cute. Well you you always look cute. Correction; you always look stunning. But seeing the sleepy you bereft of any makeup had my heart skip a beat or two. That might just be arrhythmia though.


    I''ve been missing you like crazy. It''s not just because I love being around you. Although that is a pretty big part of that. Yet, recently my self confidence has suffered some blows. At times I end up thinking if I''m even good enough for you. Or even good for you. Many prettier guys are around the town that''d go all K drama crazy for you. Yet you still settled with me. I wonder if you''d one day just wake up and realize, "I can land a better guy" and just stop talking to me.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Insecurities. I''m plagued with them. I always think too much. And as they say, "a person who always thinks much, has nothing to think about than his thoughts." Mayhap I''m overthinking. But is it really ok for you to choose me?


    I wake up everyday, unwilling to get up out of the bed. With a hundred notions of how I can be better for you. And yet I fail to be the one I want to. Ever since you kissed me that time.. nay, even before that. When you listened to my ramblings on our first date and just smiled from time to time, laughed at my silly jokes and gave me your full attention.. I chose you. I wake up everyday with a hundred different things on my mind and I choose you. I know it will hurt when we finally separate. I know I''ll be devastated when you go on your way. Yet, I wake up everyday and I keep choosing you.


    I may be masochistic.


    I go to sleep every night wishing you were there to ward away my nightmares. I go to sleep every night wondering when will I be able to hold you again. I go to sleep every night missing you. I miss you so damn much that I want to cry. But I won''t. It will be unsightly. I can''t. Deep breaths! Hold it in.


    I wish you were here to hurt me more. At least that is a feeling I feel home in.


    Just,


    Yours

 Strained Smile

    Dear Stranger,


    You tell me to not get attached. You tell me to keep my feelings in check. Perhaps it will be easier that way. Perhaps it will make sense to me later on. Perhaps it is the smart thing to do, considering you keep telling me we have no future together.


    And yet, I keep being pulled towards you the harder I try to keep myself at bay. Well, anyone has yet to accuse me of being smart about these things.


    If I know myself, I know that I mostly think in feelings. My thoughts are a jumbled mess of emotions overlapping each other. No matter how much I try to unravel them, these tangled web of strings somehow always lead me to you.


    You tell me to not fall in love. That those with no future ahead of their relationship cannot afford that luxury. And then you gift me with such a heartwarming soul soothing paiting.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    I felt like breaking down into tears right then and there. It was the first thoughtful gift I ever received. It felt like such a representation of us. In more ways than I could describe at that time.


    Such synchronisity I felt with the artwork that I felt as if I was in it. And yeah, so were you.


    I the ever curious cat. Painted with the colors of my dreams on my fur, and you.. you my love, the butterfly.


    I''m going to write a story about this. But that is for later. Right now I''m just overwhelmed with gratitude and appreciation for you. You cannot know what it means to me.


    Such a thoughtful gift, it makes me feel like I matter. As if, even if I die tomorrow, there will be someone who will be there to remember me as I was. For my deepest darkest self I reveal only to you.


    You tell me to not love you. And then you go ahead and make me lovesick too. My head is so overfill with contradictory commands right now that I might be glitching in and out of existence. I am usually a pretty level headed guy when it comes to things like this.


    As a writer, you have to be.. you know? Yet I don''t know how.. to deal with these emotions. I envy those that can shed tears. Let there body help heal your minds by letting the excess spill over.


    It''s a shame that most men are never taught how to cry.


    So I smile instead.


    Yours