7 Letters: Letter 4

To The Man I Hope You Turned Out To Be,

I bought a special dress to wear for you tonight. It’s red. Your favorite color. I laugh as I write this because I remember why it’s your favorite. It was the night of my senior prom and I was frantically pacing back and forth, rambling on about how I couldn’t find my brand new bracelet that I had bought to match my gown. The silky fabric wrapped around me was long, a rich crimson color, with a plunging neckline that almost reached my navel. I knew it was certainly risky to show up to a high school dance in this type of dress, knowing there’d be a gym full of boys who’d be completely wasted and more than willing to take advantage of such a naive seventeen year old girl. Once I had found the bracelet, I placed it on my slender wrist and took one last look in the mirror. I remember frowning because I felt dirty. I felt sick. Unhappy only because I didn’t think I was pretty enough to be seen in such a stunning dress, the result of opinions coming from ignorant lips. But then you appeared. You stood behind me, just a breath away. Your eyes, they looked like something I’d never seen before. They looked like they’d found something they’d been looking for. The chocolate pools had been wide with astonishment and wandering with curiosity and appreciation. You looked like you had found something that had always belonged to you.

I remember you telling me you'd never look at the color red the same way again without imagining it complimenting my milky skin and curves.

The words had spilled out of your perfect lips and a rush of relief spread throughout my heart. Not because of your approval, but because you made me see myself differently. I wasn't something the world didn't approve of anymore. The red dress only looked stunning on me because my confidence held it up gracefully. The radiance that filled my cheeks made you fall in love with me that night.

And when you left, after long winters of young love and not recognizing your reflection anymore, I wore the red dress again. I slipped it on easily over my trembling body and added some heels of courage to help me step into a world without you.

Sincerely,

The Woman You No Longer Know.