This is a love letter. Nothing screams desperation like a love letter but the muscle between my lungs has taken over me. I lack the poetic prowess of a fraction of a single karuta card but please understand that I am ready to risk anything and give everything for your love.
I will take you out on spectacular dates. For one, I will gladly go shopping with you. We will peruse the local dollar store where unbelievable bargains like imitation Wrigley chewing gum and rubber plungers made in China sit in adjacent aisles. For another, we will consume the finest foods dining at the world’s most popular restaurant. You know we’re getting the best in class when they call their hamburger Royale with cheese in France.
Then there are the romantic dates that you will fondly recall to our grand kids. We will picnic on the soft grass partaking in the sandwiches you made the night before while enjoying the magnificent view of the polluted river because I can’t afford admission to the state park. On another occasion, I will cheer you on as you are scantily clad and covered in peanut butter wrestling in a kiddy pool so we may have free drinks that night.
Besides lovely memories, I vow to shower you with material things that you will treasure forever. The week after your birthday, I will present you with the VHS boxset of the first season of Chihayafuru that the salesman promised wasn’t a bootleg. On our one year anniversary, you can have the heartfelt hand made sweater that you knitted for me last Christmas. I will insist that it suits you more until next winter when we agree that it will only fit me.
Do I need to continue? Can Arata or Taichi promise you all of the above? Any of the above?? Oh, like I assured you a million times before, it doesn’t always hurt when I pee. Just sometimes.
Let’s get a tattoo tomorrow,