I will do anything to be with you. I am ready to move forward. If there has been a mix-up and you aren’t there yet, it’s okay. It’s not like I’m *waiting.* There is nothing else I would accept to fill this space. It is only for you.
The past 18 months or so of admiring and loving and enjoying you without touching you have been wonderful. They have always left me wanting for more. But navigating them has required a degree of conditioning that we probably can’t just shed overnight. Some of the other tortured souls on this website hold a different opinion about this, but for you and I it isn’t that easy. We need ease; we need continuity. Is it okay with you if we move off of this website now?
Here is how you can do that—
Go to gmail. I have created an account. The name is the un-spaced title of the letter I left for you here on 4/2. We all know that Gmail doesn’t care about capitalization with account names. The key is a set of initials followed by a date that are representative of something impossibly important to you, in the following format: iiidddddd
I do hope that I have refined my powers of recognition well enough to not be mistaken, but there are no guarantees. If you aren’t ready yet, keep this information in your back pocket until you are. Or, you know, talk to my real, live self if you think you can. Otherwise, a communication awaits you.
I love you. More than … fuck, I don’t know. I just love you. And while I am certainly ready to say it back to you in the event that you acknowledge the anonymous activities of our writing personas through the auspice of your actual voice, this is the pace of proactivity I am willing to assume right now.
Are you ready?