Damn the better us we're waiting to be. Who needs those assholes? If I could paint the perfect you it would look exactly like you look today. Everything I paint is amazing. Everything you say is like gospel. There is no potential that could be a better us than we are. Build a monument to how me I am. I will burn an offering to your perfect you.
Do you remember how excited you were – like a child with a long-anticipated birthday gift – when you first unwrapped your lover? Did you fold up the paper and save the ribbon, placing them neatly on the bureau? Did you ravage into the gift, wrapping paper flying to settle strewn across the furniture? For me, there is no better gift. Wrap her up and give her to me again and again. I am never disappointed with what I uncover. It's always just what I wanted.
I mean no offense to anyone else when I proclaim us better than most, almost certainly the best. You more than compensate for any flaws some might imagine I have, and if you have faults then I've never found them as far as I can remember when you're this close to me, so close I can feel you breathing. If they want to be better they should watch and learn. Just not now. They should go away now.
Hello, friends. I trust you're well.
Later. Love.
