Magical, Mysterious Words

The anonymous text appeared on my phone out of nowhere.

I love you.

At first I was confused … is this a joke? There’s no name attached, only a phone number with an area code I don’t recognize.

A quick consult with techie Spouse left me even more baffled. There’s no way to find out who sent this message without flat out asking them, he said.

My mind reeled. If I ask who they are, they’ll probably be insulted. Or at least hurt. I’m supposed to know who they are, no doubt, someone who feels comfortable enough to send a message like this to me. But I have no clue. They’re not in my inner circle of acquaintances or a name would show up. I’d really like to know who it is. How sweet. How bizarre. Maybe they meant to send it to someone else and it’s a mistake.

Or maybe it’s not.

I love you.

Like a magnet I simply could not resist, I kept pulling out my phone all day to simply gaze at those three magical, mysterious words. Someone was mightily blessing me today … who could it be?

A friend who knew I needed a little pick-me-up?
A reader who meant that she loved my book, not necessarily me?
A long lost relative feeling the need to reconnect?
A secret admirer? (I know, I know. What can I say? Writers have great imaginations.)

The possibilities seemed endless and oh so alluring.

I was amazed at the effect this powerful and mysterious declaration of affection had on me. All day long I felt warm and fuzzy. I found myself grinning for no reason. My shoulders deslumped of their own accord. I was worthy of someone’s love, someone who was not obliged to say it like a family member or bestie.

Someone who chose to drop the L bomb for no apparent self-serving reason and then remain unknown. Someone who just wanted to bless my socks off by gifting me with the highest verbal affirmation known to mankind.

I love you.

Whew. Deep breath. Totally amazing. My beige world was suddenly technicolored. What an incredible bequest.

And then it became strangely unimportant to find out the source of this unexpected joy. Even if it was a mistake, it wasn’t. It was a love note from someone acting as Papa God’s tangible fingers on earth, reminding me how valued and cherished I am.

Something we all need to feel, especially on those dully-funk days.  

You know, I think I just might drop someone an anonymous love note myself. So if you receive a Valentine in the middle of May, it’s not from me. Just sayin.