750 Word Challenge - The Email

Hello stranger,

You do not know me, and I do not know you. Not exactly, at least. And yet, I felt compelled to reach out to you - to get in touch. Why, you might ask? Because I believe in love, and honesty, and that you deserve to know the truth. The real truth.

I sat at Café Southburg last Thursday, on the corner of Cherrymont and Hoyle Street. You know the place? Anyways, at the table right in front of me sat a dark-haired gentleman that I suspect you know quite well. Tall, broad shoulders, slight scruff on his chin - a man that you work with? I don't know his name - I never spoke a single word to the man - but from where I was sitting, eating my cinnamon bun, I could see his laptop screen.

Now, I know it's none of my business, but somehow my eyes transfixed on what he was writing, because he seemed quite distressed - choosing every word with careful consideration, attempting to find the correct way to convey his emotions. You might think ill of me for reading his private message to you, but I assure you that I had no malicious intensions. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or perhaps the opposite. That's how I got your email, by the way. From the gentleman's monitor. I never should have looked, I realize. I don't mean to pry into your lives; but I feel that I must.

You see, the message you received from him was.. Well, it was sweet, I suppose? When he described what a fun time you had shared together during your business trip? At least I think it was a business trip. It was hard to tell for certain. But he wrote about the unexpected karaoke that you had been dragged into - and how lovely your voice sounded. I suspect you shared a moment there that meant something to you both. Maybe you saw a side to each other that you hadn't before?

In any case, he continued talking about some kind of project. In the version of the email that you received, that is. But this is the reason I'm writing to you. Because originally, he wrote something quite different. The man described - shyly, from my point of view - that he had felt a sort of attraction towards you. No, actually, it was more than that. I think the word he used was "connection". And he wrote that you were special to him. That he cared about you more than he dared to show.

... In fact, he even wrote a few lines that were quite suggestive, describing the lovely shape of your body, and how tempted he had been to touch you. To caress your soft skin, or something along those lines. And how he wanted to kiss you, taste your lips and explore things with you.

Now, I don't know why he deleted those paragraphs. I couldn't tell you what went through his mind. But what I can say is this; he struggled immensely with doing so. I noticed his hand shaking a little bit, and he didn't even touch the coffee he had ordered. Before hitting that backspace key, he must have sat there - silently staring at the screen, without moving a muscle - for at least a minute, if not more. And then, with a sigh, he deleted it all.

Why? If I had to hazard a guess, I would assume that he's scared. That he doesn't want to ruin your professional relationship, perhaps? But from where I sat, I could feel his agony radiating from him. How deeply he struggled with his decision. And so - I decided to do what I shouldn't have done, and wrote down your email. I debated whether or not to reach out for several days, because really, it's rude of me to meddle in your business. I know nothing about you, or about this guy. All I know is that I saw a man struggling with coming to terms with his emotions. And that I'm a hopeless romantic.

In the version of the email that you never got to see, and that was never sent, he didn't end it with saying he was looking forward to seeing you at work on Monday. Not even close. No, in the deleted version of that email, he ended it with three simple words.

"I love you".