Z,
I've been thinking about this for weeks and I've drafted countless versions of this letter in my head and I've never found a good way to start it, so I think this time I'll just dive right to the point if you'll indulge me:

I want to go places with you. I want to show you some of the places I've seen, all around the world, but besides that I want to go to the places you care about. I want to visit the lake where you tried to become a pirate and have you show me which was the best tree to climb when you were a child.

I want to try new things with you. I might be too traumatized for Passover, but I want you to tell me about any other holidays you have and how you celebrate them. I want to taste your favorite food, and then I want to buy something in a foreign market that neither of us can pronounce and make guesses about how it's meant to be eaten. I want to teach you how to sail.

I want to show you all of my tattoos and explain each one. They all have their own meaning, but together they tell a story and I want to share that story with you. I want to hear all your stories, too. I want to talk about things with you until we aren't sure whether we have secrets anymore.

I've been wrong about this sort of thing before, but I think I might be in love with you, and I want to do something about it.

Running away together honestly hadn't occurred to me before our last talk, so I hope you didn't feel like I was asking for that or trying to pressure you into anything. But I'm ready to take the next step, and I've been ready for months. After Passover, though, I don't know what that next step looks like. I could talk to your father again, but I don't know  how long it would take to get him to come around, and I don't want to wait that long.

I don't know what to do next. Help me figure it out. Going through life just hoping to see you at some social event, and then hoping we have one or two minutes to talk... this just can't go on forever. Not when I want to be doing so much more.

Your —
Alfred