Going slowly mad without you; every new day with no word from you I feel I lose a little of my self.
I tried to see you, that night — perhaps you won't believe me. It makes no difference now. I've replayed our last meeting three dozen times at least, and each time I end up with a better version of events, a way I wish that things had gone. We can't undo the past and the future seems uncertain, but please — let us take a little of the present for ourselves, while we still can.
Meet me.
yours still, in spite of everything
Enclosed: the address of a hotel in Brighton, complete with a room number; a date and time; a spritz of the cinnamon-and-clove cologne.
MJ is the light of my life <3