letters 18
Fenn,
Oh.
Must you say such things in a letter? Can’t you tell me while looking at me? Can’t you say it in person?
It has been four years—four whole years since I first knew you. Can it truly be? Tell me who you are. We both know you are no magical creature but a being of flesh and blood, like me.
Come. Have the courage to meet me. Let us sit down together, share a cup of tea, and talk—not as mysteries to one another, but as true friends.
Will you meet me?
Emmy
My dearest Emmy,
Friends? That is not what I desire, nor what my heart yearns for. I crave so much more than friendship could ever offer.
And tea? It is but a pale substitute for the dreams that fill my mind whenever I think of you.
Yours in restless hope,
Fenn