I wonder what it’s like to date a writer.
He will write things about you.
He will notice every single detail, he will love every single grain.
He will write down what he feels.
You’ll know that you’re appreciated, you’re loved, you’re special.
He will profess his love for you through writing.
At times of heartaches, his tears will drop simultaneously with the drop of the ink of his pen. His tears will smudge his notes. His drop of tear will blot the whole plotline of your love story. He will write his broken heart. He will his mend his own heart also, through writing.
A writer will write his promises, but will carry them out. He will make your heart melt through letters, sometimes obliviously written, through block poetry, through haikus, and even prose.
He will be up all night, pondering the best adjectives to describe his feelings for you. He will be up all night, with his cup of coffee, his pen, his blank sheet. He will be up all night, filled with emotional energy, carrying his heavy heart, perplexed but tranquil.
I wonder what it’s like to date a writer, and what it’s like to have a writer fall in love with you.