A Thousand Words
Lin
Dear CJ,
I sit here in my home and I find myself with nothing to write. This is ridiculous. I am a speechwriter for the President of the United States, as you well know, and I can't put a pen to paper and actually write down what I want. I have started and restarted this letter so many times, trying to write in a way that will live up to my status, but I cannot do it. Now I know how some people feel. So I guess I'll just say this in the least eloquent way my heart can muster.
At the beginning, so long ago, you were my friend. I was yours. There was nothing else. It didn't matter because we didn't want anything else. Tell me, how did a night of dancing change my life. I looked at you so differently from then on. You weren't just the Press Secretary, the only woman in our 'boy's club,' you were someone special. I couldn't take my eyes away from you. I still can't.
I remember all the times I saw you and Danny together. Now the very thought of it makes me sick and I don't know why. Claudia Jean (may I call you that?), you were someone who jumped under my skin insidiously. Now I don't know if I can escape your spell.
We talk about love a lot. Are we in love with each other? Is it important? Do I have to be in love with you to prove something to you? Can't I just want to be with you? To want to be able to kiss you? Is that too much to ask? I fear it is. If you would rather not pursue this, then I wish you would tell me now before I fall deeper. I cannot say I am in love with you, but I can say I do love you. Those sound like two such ambiguous things to say, but I can truthfully tell you I have loved you for a long time. But it is not just me; you have a room full of men at your beck and call. Doesn't that make you feel good?
But I'm not writing to talk about everyone, just you and me. I want to be with you. I want to get to know you. I want to know your favorite color, your favorite food, your favorite song, and any other favorites you might have. I want to share mine with you. I want to stay up late and talk through the night about whatever might pop into our heads at the moment.
I would like to share in your company, if you will permit me.
A photograph of us hangs in your office. I want to share that contact once more and be able to look into your depths and know who the real CJ Cregg is. Is that too much to ask? I don't want to give up what we have before we even have it.
I'm rambling now and I shouldn't be, so bear with me a bit longer.
We talk about taking things a step at a time. What are we stepping over lightly? Are we afraid we're going to get our hearts crushed? And this is the perfect time to bring up another point: our friendship.
CJ, I have been friends with you for a long time. I have watched you grow closer to Josh and you are the only one who is remotely close to Toby. I felt like I was missing out on something wonderful, and now I know what it is. Your friendship is like a ray of sunshine for me (as corny as that is). I relish in it and try to do everything in my power to coax a small smile onto your face. I want to reassure you, no matter what happens in our lives, I don't want to lose that friendship. Our relationship, whatever it may or may not be, will never tamper with our friendship because if I lose that one part of you, I'd forever be lost.
That night on your stoop, I leaned in to kiss you because I wanted to taste the sweetness I tasted when you accidentally kissed me. Who would have known it would have blown up into something so monumental? Even though what happened wasn't the most desirable of things that could have happened, I don't regret a moment of it. I took what I wanted and I walked away with a smile on my face, with you yelling at me about a date. It took all of my strength and will-power to keep from running back to the door and kissing you once more.
It took all of my will-power to keep from trying to shelter you from Tad Whitney. (I feel like I must mention him here.) My heart broke along with yours as you recounted Alex's death. I couldn't understand how anyone could do what Whitney was doing to you and I still don't, except for one small thing. I think he's jealous. Of course, I could be wrong and he's just a lying, cheating snake in the grass, of which I believe you will concur, but maybe he is jealous. He lost one of the best things in the world and he knows it.
I don't want to lose you, CJ. I want to be there for you every step of the way. I want to share tears with you and smile with you in triumph. I want to be the one you call and hug in victory and embrace during defeats. I don't want to impede on your friendship with Josh, which I know is of the upmost importance to you (as it is to me). I want to serve in the same capacity as he does, not just as a friend, but as someone who loves you unconditionally.
You don't have to respond to this letter. I'd completely understand if you didn't. I'm going to drop this into a mailbox, because if I try to hand it to you, I'll lose my nerve completely. Please read my words carefully. There's so much I want to say that I cannot put words to, but I am trying. And when you get this letter, know it was written with good intentions. Good intentions are the way to Hell, but I hope this letter will bring me a little bit closer to Heaven.
With all my love,
Sam
S.W.A.K.
I Hope You Dance: A Response
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