Did you get my invitation to next month yet? I sent you and invitation to the 12th, should be fun.
Even though we just spoke a few moments ago, and I hope to speak again soon, I can’t keep from writing you. I worry sometimes that I must seem like plague to you at times, with my constant need for you. But it seems that I am only truly happy when I am with you, talking to you or writing you. Sometimes it seems that I cannot even think of anything else without thoughts of you accompanying it. I have not felt real joy since the last time we sat together and spoke and it makes me wonder when will I have another happy hour with you?
I’ll tell you again that I feel no guilt for the happy stolen pleasures we spend together, moments stolen not from me but from you. I know that when I am with you I am stealing from your life and from moments you could be spending with others. It always amazes me that you choose to interrupt your life to spend time with me. Whereas every moment I spend with you adds greatly to my happiness and to my life. Don’t you think its incredible that the two of us should have such a great desire to share together what neither of us can ever possess?
You asked yesterday why I don’t share my stories with you at lunch when were together. Im sure I must sound like that same dull guy every day at lunch over and again – like a monkey that can speak the words I love you and that you’re a beautiful woman- and nothing else. In so many ways you are such an innocent woman you simply cannot see what others see. When were are together in public what everyone sees is a beautiful young woman, who could own the world, and an older man with her.
I am careful not to let much of our conversation wonder to far from that illusion. I would not hurt you for the entire world even though I have done so, but this is one thing I can do to protect you. It is also part of the reason my love letters and the erotic letters that I send you are so different from when we are seated together. So you should consider the words in my letters as equally sincere and constant as the words I speak to you in person, because I would speak them to you in private were they could not hurt you or by change land upon the ears of someone who would know you or your family and spread them around. Even so you are perfectly save if you were to be alone with me, but if the occasion presented itself, I would whisper the nastiest things in your ears, along with sweet I love yous.
I will stop for now because even the thought of your alone with me in the mood to entertain my closeness makes my hands shake so noticeable that typing becomes a chore. I have just enough time to get this to you and then I am out the door for the day. I love you.
P.S This by the way is what I was doing when you calle me. Writing you a love letter completly clothed and following the rules, like a goodboy.