I watched you from behind dieing flowers and browning leaves, this past autumn, and have fallen madly in love with you. Everyday, I would roll in my thimble to the cross roads and watch as you walk home from the florist, always wearing a new flower in your hair, whistling a beautiful Italian tune. The same everyday. From behind tall grass, I imagine myself entwined in your dark curls, laying in the flowers petals and swimming in your aroma, happier than I have ever been.
At night, I dream of being normal and we dance, like Gene and Judy in 'For Me and My Gal'. We dance in a multi-colored field of all the flowers you ever wore in your hair, lit by a new moon, until the sun cracks the morning sky. Then, we sleep all day wrapped in each other until night falls, when we dance again.
Alas, this is just a dream. I love you but you think me a freak. A "monster". I heard you talking to Jake in the Soda shop. I was playing in the pinball machine when you both came in laughing. Him miming squashing me between his thumb and index finger. You, giggling wonderfully, stroking his arm. I am not a freak. I have feelings like you and Jake and Mr. Goldsworthy. I maybe the smallest boy in the world but I have the biggest heart.
When I was born, the doctors told my mother I would not last a day. That I would die 1mm tall and weighing half a gram. Next June I will be sixteen years old. My mother used to tell me I survived because I had so much love to give. That I couldn't die without giving it. I want to show you this love, to show you that I'm better because I am small. I can fulfill you more than any man. Please, Claudia, let me prove it.
I love you,