Another letter heading straight to the fireplace

Hey Sunshine,

You know the funny thing about Epicurus's teachings? The original documents are lost to time. Everything we know about his theories comes from his pupils like Cicero. Another fun fact, shinjin ichinyo is even harder to source. Trust me, I'll turn in my essay, but it's going to take a little longer than usual. You won't give me a penalty for that, will you (since I'm your favorite?)

Either way, I'm tired of finding loopholes to tell you what I know you want to hear. You lecture on and on about the meaning of pleasure, the importance of patience, and the worth of binding the mind to the body but I know you're tired too. When I asked for your help in the library you said you felt tension when I hadn't tried anything yet. I don't need to play any more games with you. Hell, I don't even have to try to make you think of me. That's what I love most about this whole thing. Knowing that I take up as much space in your mind as you do in mine. I spend my evenings replaying our memories to fall asleep and you dream about them once I've finally closed my eyes.

You know what I've been thinking about a lot lately? Your voice. Not just because of the album's release (Congratulations again, by the way), but because everything you say inspires me. there's something about your tone that soothes me like a church bell. I could listen to you forever. You don't have to speak to get admiration from me, though. I loved waking up before you in September and watching you sleep. You have a cute nose, and thin eyebrows suit you. I could go on and on about how finding every "imperfection" made me want to hold you more, like when you find the most beautiful shell on the beach and swear you'll keep it forever, but based on how you graded my report on magnetars I think it'd be best if I told you in person.

When I burned the second letter it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Maybe I knew you'd want it back and I'd be able to replicate it in time. Maybe I knew I'd write so much about you that three lost pages were as important as a grain of sand. After all, my inspiration for that piece was only an itch that I felt for one night. I could write a book on the hands I felt for a week, and compose a library on who you've been to me my whole life.

                     I think this is enough for one letter though.

-xoxo