My love (light of my life, fire of my loins, my sin, my soul-apologies to Nabakov),
This meeting is boring. And my thoughts, as they often do, return to you. What a two weeks, two months, two lives this has been. Who knows why anything happens? I’m so glad you come from a skeptical, rational place, [...]
Just out of spite, I confess I’ve ruined three lives. I don’t sleep so tight, ’cause I didn’t care till I found out that one of them was mine. — The (English) Beat
Love letter