Don't Fall Apart On Me Tonight

Dear Chretion,

We're almost there. By this time, I've probably almost gone insane with worry and I'm most likely calling the front desk to try and get any information about how you're doing from whatever poor soul has the misfortune to be at the reception. They're most likely not telling me anything except that you're in good hands or whatever, but just the reassurance that they're taking care of you is enough to make me worry a little less.

But that's nothing compared to how good it'll feel to hold you in my arms again. It's really cheesy, but honestly, I don't give a fuck. You're my best friend and I really care about you, so I can be cheesy if I want to.

And I think that you secretly love how cheesy I am, even if you make fun of me for it.

See, that's another thing that makes you the amazing human being that you are; #6: You love my flaws.

Seriously, even though they sometimes annoy you, you love them, for the sole reason that they're my flaws and they're part of my personality. And you've helped me to love them, too.

I've always hated my hips. They're so feminine and they have much more sway to them when I walk then normal guys' do. They make it almost impossible for me to buy guys' jeans, which is ridiculously embarrassing.

People used to make fun them, too. Jocks would call out to me across the quad, asking where their girlfriends could get a pair of my pants or asking if was sure I was male and not just a really flat-chested girl. My hips were the thing I was most self-conscious about to the point where I would only wear incredibly baggy pants to try and hide them.

You, noticing the dramatic change from my usual tight skinny jeans to the baggy black cargo pants, asked me what was wrong. I was hesitant to tell you, worried that you'd think I was stupid that I was so upset over such a trivial thing. But after some gentle coaxing in the form of tickling, I told you what was bothering me, and you did think it was a stupid thing to be worried about, but you helped me to see why.

You told me that if you could choose any body type for a boyfriend of yours to have, it would be mine. You told me that you thought my hips just made me more attractive. And even though it was really out of character for you to compliment me on my appearance (wouldn't want me to get the wrong idea, now would we?), I was too happy to care. I could finally see my hips as a trait to be desired and one that set me apart, in a positive way. And I had you to thank for that.

I know that's a really small and relatively shallow example, but you do the same thing with every flaw that I get down on myself about. You're always there to tell me I'm being ridiculous and too hard on myself. I know it seems like such a small thing to do and you probably don't even know you're doing it, but it means the world to me. You should know by now that it's your opinion that matters the most to me and knowing that you love my flaws... well, it makes them feel more like assets.

I love your flaws, you know. And I love even more that you're willing to try and get rid of the one that I could never learn to love, so you can make me happy.

I only hope it'll make you happy, too.

This is the second-to-last letter before I can tell all these things to you face-to-face, and I hope you're as excited about that as I am.

See you soon.

-Killian

PS- For the record, you can be ridiculously cheesy as well. And don't you even try to deny it.