Today I fell in love with your hand, your veins, the curves it makes when it reaches your nails. I fell in love with how you move your fingers, and how your big round puppy eyes, with that always lost look, try to watch every move. I fell in love with every part of your face, and your outstanding ears, which make you even more genuine than you really are. I love the wave on the back of your nose. Your thin, red lips, wet because you love to play around with your tongue, which is extremely intriguing with such a face like yours. I also fell in love with the way your loose shirt hangs down on your shoulders, and the unsteady way you lift your legs when you walk. I love how you sometimes have these over thinking moments, and you’re a bit nervous, and you rub your hands on your thighs not knowing how fascinated I am with you. I love that slight, half-smirk smile in the corner of your lips, with eyes full of pride and excitement when you succeed in something. I seek for your attention, hoping that when your eyes wander around the room, they may stick on me and you think about me, or just see me. At least, then, I’m in your mind; the most beautiful place. Silly of me that I hope that you just maybe could notice things like I do about you, on me. Just maybe you’re falling for someone so deep that you know you can never get up, or even want to."
“I am dead tired because I went to bed so late last night. Now I am in bed and I am going to sleep. Just one or two words more. I do not care for what I am writing; but I just like the fact of writing to you. It is like kissing you. It is something physical; I can feel my love for you in my fingers when I write; it is good to feel one’s love with any living part of one’s body, not only in one’s head. Writing is not as pleasant as kissing; it is even a little dry, and lonely and sad, but it is better than nothing: I have no choice left. So just now I am writing anything, you see, stupid things, just not to say good bye.”
Simone de Beauvoir, Letter to Nelson Algren