Uhm... Before we continue talking, I think there's something I should
tell you.
I find myself taking quite a liking to you.
In fact, I can't seem to stop writing you, neither do I wish to; and
your emails are the first thing I look for in the morning when I wake up.
Honestly, I'm not really sure how to proceed.
I look for a capability of abstract thought. I look for life on the inside; someone who thinks a great deal more than she says to people around her.
All I'm saying here is that to me, you look like an opera-loving,
hamburger-liking, down-to-earth curious kind of a girl, and I don't mind at all.
I must say I had a great time talking to you last night.
And when I talked to you, I realized that this is the first time that I'm actually speaking, one on one, with a 100% American woman.
And if maybe you had closets full of shoes, but, the more we talked, the better I felt about it.
If the voice is all wrong, that is such a deal-breaker for me, for instance. Maybe it's my musical ear, I don't know. But I liked yours.
I'm shaking my head in disbelief. It's surreal. And yet - correct me if I'm wrong - there seems to be a plan underlying everything here. This feels like yet another step - albeit a rather annoying one - in whatever spiritual path we're on...
And yet, I do miss you... Actually, I'm not sure what to do with myself now that we keep this radio silence.
I think you have an excellent knack for turning my heart into mush.
I hope the 13th will go as planned... there are things to say.
I try to see the world through your eyes a little. My only regret is that I am able to do so little for you. Incidentally, I miss you.
Many times I've been on walks in the darkness of cold and dreary evenings, looking into people's lit-up kitchens and living rooms, wondering what it would be like to be inside, having a family, in the warmth and coziness of such beautiful homes. I see flowers in the windows, a person here and there behind pretty, neat curtains, and my heart grows sick, yearning for a place to call home.
I've had this thought in my mind all day -
that I find your soul to be amazingly beautiful; and I dearly, dearly hope, that the Little Match Girl inside of you will find all her dreams to come true. I know how she feels.
Thus, here we stand. This is new ground, admittingly, where I haven't trodden before. The grass seems fresh.
Tipperary has become symbolic of love, hope, the dream of sharing my life with someone, whatever you call it. To look someone deeply in the eyes and run my fingers through her hair; listening to the soft, still breathing of someone near...
What did you really mean with that August Rush symphony -
because when I listened to it I had the most extraordinary feeling of being connected to your heart.
I'll be waiting for your letter...
Well, here is a pretty, casual, down-to-earth American girl who seems to be deeply spiritual, loves opera, hamburgers and office supplies, who is a republican and owns a rifle, and yet is an incurable romantic, writing poetry, painting, who reads 19th century literature for love of the language…
Hey, on a side note... You said something about "try cross the ocean and see what happens then" ... what do you think about that?
P.S. I’m not in love with Sandra Bullock.
