My eyes are closed. I’m sitting on a bench at a bus stop and the sun is gentle and warms my heart a little. Then, I open them to examine the envelope Chris gave me; I breathe in a long gulp of air and breathe it out to empty my lungs. I open the envelope and remove the letter which I carefully unfold. There are a few sheets:
My little wife,
I was worried that you would think my feelings for you were fake, or not real. This is why I decided to write to you. I would love to tell you that I wrote this all at once... but that’s not the case. It took several weeks. So, whatever you’ve learned about this problem of mine, what I feel for you isn’t imaginary, fantasized, distorted or whatever other words these shrinks like to put in my head. When I say you’re perfect, I’m not idealizing you so m
