Dear Sir,
I mean it, you are very dear to me. I know you have commitment issues. I know you have a pile of neuroses, and insecurities, and idiosyncrasies. I feel very close to you, for all of these things, and more. For every hobby, every interest, every thing. There is almost no thing that makes me happier than being near you. I like going out with you, I like staying in with you. I like sleeping with you, not even just the sex, but the sleep. The cuddles, the feeling of being safe in your arms. I've never met another person I could just sleep with. I wish I could just say all of this to you, but you can be a bit skittish when it comes to all of this affection.
Don't be mistaken, my dear, I am well aware of your flaws. You don't know how to say no, you take on every project- which leaves you with an impossibly full schedule, which means you don't have lots of time to spend with me. You don't know how to take a compliment, and your self deprecating makes Woody Allen sound like Donald Trump. When you can't just take a compliment it makes me feel like you don't take my words seriously, as though my opinion of you isn't valid.
It would be a lie, my dear, to tell you that I am unaware of your 'reputation'. I have been told by other women to "run in the other direction as fast as possible" from you. You yourself try to paint the way your past relationships have ended with you as the villain or the monster. Some of your ex-girlfriends are absolutely full of bile. But me? I've never seen a side of you that has made me feel anything but good. Even your bad days, even when you're tired, and grumpy, and you've had your fill of people getting on your nerves, you're only sweet to me.
With Love,
Kate
(someday, someday I will tell you how much I love you)
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