Open letter; or, “Ihis is what happens when I drink”. Yes, I know, updates are sketchy.

Dear **,

You are, in all sincerity, amazing.

I know you don’t believe this. But please, please listen to me.

You are smart. You are so smart it fucking scares me. You are smarter than I ever will or can ever hope to bed. And you are kind, as well as intelligent. You’re nice and you care, far more than anyone I know. I mean that. You are a good person and you care.

On top of that, and I know you don’t believe this either, buy you are quite honestly one of the most amazingly gorgeous things in all of Creation. I’m serious. God Himself sat down and sculpted you from mortal materials such as flesh and blood and created a thing of pure beauty. You. Are. Gorgeous.

I want you. I want you so much. I love you. I really do. I always have, and you should believe that.

I wish to the Gods I could have you. I really do. I think we could be so happy together.

Sincerely,

Edward

***

Were it not for the limits of time, space, money and the lack of a consistent feeling such as the one alcohol provides, this is the kind of letter I would write to **.

Sigh.