To my other half,
A pair of 2’s is a weak hand to be dealt and most people wouldn’t want to take on that challenge. When I picked up the cards, I could’ve folded. I could’ve slapped them down on the table, never knowing what could’ve been. Instead, I played it, which as you know is not like me at all (being the cautious planner of our relationship). But more like you, I thought “What do I have to lose?”
Flashback to my parent’s split when I was 4. It was at this very young age that love felt fictionalized. I realized it would only be me, and I was happy with that. Another person would complicate me, would challenge me in ways I wasn’t ready for. Yet, each earth day I blew out candles wishing for something to make me feel less alone, despite being surrounded.
It was 2:22am when I locked eyes with you. We sat criss-crossed on a dusty gray motel floor because it was the only place that accepted a bunch of teenagers to sleep in at the beach. The ends of our hair, ever so slightly touching like there was static. I remember I confessed my love for Coldplay, with them being a staple in the mixtapes my dad would make me twice a month to remind me I was his favorite girl. So there you put on Viva La Vida, pulling up the lyrics, because we have no idea what Chris Martin is actually saying, and we sang along for the next 4:02 minutes.
#42, your favorite baseball player’s number that you have used as a password since you were 12. #24, the number a lacrosse character from a TV show wore who I used as mine.
222 was the road you drove me home from the drive-in. The blanket we shared felt too big. Too far from each other. We didn’t look over at each other once, because if we did, it became real. On our ride home I wasn’t sure if you liked me. As if you heard the anxious little devil on my shoulder, you gently placed your hand over mine, and my heart was beating faster than the car.
Numbers are meant to be quantitative, measurable, but never interpretable. I guess I’m here writing this letter to you, because I took a chance and believed the numbers meant something, despite our probability of actually working out. And like 2 perfectly aligned stars in a vast sky, our connection is rare and beautiful.