From: pescygal (email@example.com)
To: Pysek (Pysek@talkmatch.com)
Date received: April 6, 2009
What am I going to do with you?
I had someone at work check my email for me today, because I was curious if I would hear back from you. She printed your marvelous note for me, and I think I smiled all day (again).. That's pretty impressive for a Monday.
Say, if you and I ever met, would that mean I would stop getting notes from you? If it does then count me out.
It's possible that you are sublime.
What are you going to do with me, she asks. I hope, for the sake of our burgeoning relationship, that question is rhetorical. Because I do have a list of things around here somewhere. However, being as I am a gentleman, I'll refrain, for now.
Please fear not concerning receiving notes from me after our initial meeting. I am planning on redoubling my efforts at lyrical prose in order to mitigate the damage of you having to actually see me in person. Reference: Cyrano de Bergerac.
I appreciate beyond words your kindness shown through the mention of my rendering you texually speechless and the various other nuggets of graciousness you sent to me. I am also most appreciative of your post script, allowing me a wee bit more insight into my newest and best obesssion. But, as I hope you know, I am becoming as enslaved to what fires off between your axons and dendrites as I hope you are of mine, and I would be most grateful for a lengthier reply, at my lady's convenience, of course.
Until then, I remain ever yours,
(Ever yours, apparently we're living in the 18th century and you're stuck in Ireland and I'm doing the Land Run to make us a homestead and this is how I sign off...pay it no mind, sometimes I go to places and just hang there for a bit)
I love this.