An open love letter

image of a heart shaped mirror handing on a wall by the corner. The reflection shows closed blinds that let the soft glow of the morning light through.

I had loved others before you. Spent sweltering July days in the presence of those that I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. But I was naïve, at the tender age of 16. I didn’t see you coming – I didn’t even know you existed. I wish I’d found you sooner, because the heat wouldn’t have bothered me if you were the fire behind it.

When I moved to Toronto, I dipped my toes into your water. Hesitant at first, I thought, “what would my people think?”. Momma would be mad. But still I inched closer into your caress. Late nights by the fireplace at Graham, clutching my cold coffee while I poured over you. Early mornings exploring Woodsworth, tenderly coming to understand you. I was enthralled by you from the moment I laid eyes on your bold statements; feeling how tightly you were bound together only made me think of all the ways I could pull you apart.

I was risking a lot to be with you. Minutes turned into hours when I talked about you with my friends. Time I should have spent studying for bio or chem. But how could I deny the spark you lit inside me for some Blackboard quiz that could never make me feel alive the way that you do? After 18 years of revolving around the warm sun, it finally shone in the right place. Through the windows of Con Hall, the soft glow of the yellow light illuminated your presence. You had me.

I love who I am when I’m with you. I love the way I talk, the way I’ve grown. You’re important enough to me to have me defy my family. To forget all the plans I’ve ever made and pursue the unknown. I’d never explored my mind like this before –  but now I see what you and I can create together, and it will be beautiful. It’s a whole new world, and I want to dance in it. You’re teaching me the moves.

A letter to Political Science, the thing I love the most right now.

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