Sundays with M.

Dear Follower,

As there is now only one (1) of you, I guess these have become letters more than blog posts. Although perhaps even you having adjusted your notification settings so that my infrequent updates don't manage to make their way into your sphere of perception. Nevertheless, I shall blog on. It's almost liberating knowing that these little posts are more of an offering to the goddess Entropy.
Maybe Entropy is male. It seems like destruction is more under the purview of the less fair sex and creation under the purview of the fairer. Maybe, intrepid follower, you will grant me the poetic license to do what I may and if the gender of my personal pronoun offends, then I shall hide behind my aegis of atheism.

I met a girl. Her name is M[redacted]. She is...complicated. She is complicated and lovely. She is complicated, lovely, and warm...like a slow sip of scotch.  She looks taller than she is; she has pale blue eyes, like the heart of a glacier. The heart where the ice is pure because all imperfections have been forced out under titanic pressures. Shipwreck allusion unintended.
She has dark hair and a dark wit. She dances like a succubus on duty. She can pierce my heart with a glance.
I've known her for fewer than 14 days.
I feel especially exposed with her. I told her as much after an incredible night of swing dancing. I told her that she scared me because I didn't know what she was going to do with me. This sounds, inadvertently serial-killer-ish, but what I meant was that I was...like those Black Lab lyrics "Will you be there on the ground if I should fall...fall for you." This relationship is starting to feel like a trust fall, but I didn't even look behind me to see if she's looking.
We exchanged books. She gave me The Perks of Being a Wallflower and I gave her Jack of Shadows. Aside from the fact that you would be hard pressed to find two more different novels,
Perks was fantastic. Truly the heartbreaking work of a brilliant mind. The more I read the more I think I learned about M. Someone's favorite books can tell you more about them than a direct interview.

My word well is starting to dry up, so I say goodnight, gentle follower. I hope whoever you are, wherever you are, you are loved the way you deserve to be loved.

Your friend,
Charlie