Love Letter, pt. 15. My Super Valentine

Dear Spider-Man,

Ok. Let’s just clear the air and get this out of the way before things get awkward. Deep Breath. Are you ready? I know you are Peter Parker. Sure, I get that it’s supposed to be a secret, but come on dude. Perhaps you should lay low on the origin stories for a while if you’re really that concerned about people finding out? Maybe back out of that deal you just made with Marvel Studios?

Or, you know, just accept the fact that everyone knows.

Anyway, I’m glad we got that out of the way. This makes everything else I have to say so much easier.

Spider-Man, I am in love with you. I have been in love with you since I was 6 and first read one of your comic books and I rekindled that love in 2002 when Sam Raimi brought you to the big screen and back into my heart.

Just look at all those lean muscles!

Just look at all those lean muscles!

It’s a pure love with a whole lot of dirty behind it.

Did I just make things awkward?

What I am trying to say is that I really and truly love you. Your awkwardness inspired me when I was younger. Your brilliance made me realize it is ok to be smart. Your sense of justice and your desire to do good in the world made me want to be a better person. Your cocky arrogance made me love so very many bad boys. And don’t even get me started on how freaking sexy you are.

You are so freaking sexy.

Oh Spidey, even brooding is a good look for you. Be still my heart.

Oh Spidey, even brooding is a good look for you. Be still my heart.

I love you for you, not just for who plays you on screen. (Though Andrew Garfield really is destined to be the subject of one of these letters in the very near future.)

And even though I prefer to read X-Men Comics you are by far my favourite super hero.

Sure, you wouldn’t be the best boyfriend. First there are all of the mortal enemies you have accumulated throughout the years who are always trying to kill you and everyone you hold dear. I’m sure that would get old fast. Plus you have enough emotional baggage to require a turnstile. I mean, I can’t imagine the toll that being responsible for the deaths of both your Uncle and Gwen has had on your psyche, but I am sure we can work past that. Let my love heal you. And as for your love of Mary Jane? I was a redhead for 6 years and I really don’t mind being one again. It was a good colour on me. Just say the word and I’ll henna it up.

We could be great together, Spidey dear. Give love a chance.

I can see us now, swinging over Manhattan with your arms around me, the wind brushing through my hair and whipping the tears from my terrified eyes. (Did I mention that I’m deathly afraid of heights? I hope that’s not a deal breaker.) Maybe we could grab coffee one sleepy Saturday and drop by ‘Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters’ on one of your visits to help the X-Men. Who knows, I might even have some latent mutant powers and we can further bond while cultivating our “secret” identities.

Or maybe you could move to Canada to be with me? I have a feeling we have a lot less Super Villains than Manhattan so it might be the much needed break you deserve.

At the very least just promise me you will think about it.

Happy Valentine’s Day, my web-slinging friend

With All My Heart,

S.M.R.P

I know this is going to sound weird, but I swear you are giving me the bedroom eyes beneath that mask. Hubba Hubba.

I know this is going to sound weird, but I swear you are giving me bedroom eyes beneath that mask. Hubba Hubba.

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