I write you only because I know sharing this in person would give you far too much delight at my expense. The next time I see you, I hope you have mastered your initial amusement at my ridiculous act. As you discovered my ridiculous devotion to a certain Mr. Crouch this past summer, you are the only person to whom I will disclose my blunder. I wrote an anonymous owl to express my infatuation.

I wrote an anonymous love letter to Mr. Aldous Crouch.

No, I don't know what came over me.
No, he hasn't returned the letter.
Felix, I don't know what to do or how I approach such insanity.

What have I done? 

I wrote him again. I wrote him again like some pathetic debutante that pursues a man. I do not pursue men; men pursue me. Obliviate me. Take every inkwell and quill in my possession. I cannot be trusted to keep my riciculous fancies to myself.

How? How is this possible? 

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MJ made this miracle!