Do you remember dancing with me yesterday in the hotel room? I love it when you dance with me. No one has ever danced with me before. Do you remember dancing on the sidewalk outside of that Mexican restaurant on that sad Sunday? And, of course, the White Rabbit dance. And in the main room of your guest house? And in the desert? And in the kitchen of the A-frame? I think about you holding me in your arms and dancing with me years from now. I can easily imagine it.

Thinking about it makes me cry a little bit—happy tears. I have waited my entire life to have moments like the ones you give to me. To be held like you hold me. For this romance.

I do not like drama, especially senseless interpersonal drama. But My Love, I am a sucker for the drama that is you. I love your silliness juxtaposed against your melancholy. I love that you are happy to let me coo over you like you’re my little baby, but that you also fuck my pussy soooooo hard. I love that you’re kind of complicated but also kind of not complicated. You are such a sweet, sexy, dynamic man. That’s what I mean when I say I love the drama of you.

Thanks for keeping me on my toes, Baby. I love you. I can’t wait to talk to you soon.