A solo spotlight illuminated his face…

He was seated on a wooden stool.

All eyes were on him.

His eyes looked straight at me from afar as his lips parted and mouthed the words from the letter I wrote him, loud and clear.

Word by word, syllable by syllable, the paper he held and read, mirrored my soul. Stripping me down…

My love letter--read out loud to a nameless audience.

The crowd bustled. Some cheered…  Some jeered…  Some sat indifferent…  Some absorbed my anguish as his voice poured out my tears and pieces of my heart.

The solo spotlight swung at me.

I was seated at the topmost seat, away from the crowd.

All eyes were on me.

I look back at them, and they knew I wrote it. I looked down. I was naked.

The crowd bustled. Some cheered…  Some jeered…  Some sat indifferent…  Some empathized with the embarrassment of having nothing to cover myself but the plea in my eyes to be loved back.

That was how it was, when I told you how I felt, even if I know that far away, at the other side of the world, you are holding her hand.