Dear is too formal and Mindfuck is too informal.
Is that better? Who the feck knows.
You’re probably sat at home on your sofa right now watching tv and snacking. I’m trying to get to sleep but evidently it isn’t working.
I feel like I’ve got a lot to lose. I’ve got my pride and my bravado and a hell of a lot of weight.
You have more to lose and I understand why you’re clinging onto it all.
I can’t and won’t guarantee you that this will be easy. I’ve learnt from my therapist that nothing can be guaranteed.
She has a point.
I will not make promises that I can’t keep. With that in mind, I promise you these things:
- I promise that I will always be grumpy before 6am.
- I promise that I will always be allergic to cats and covered in their fur but that I will always consider getting more.
- I promise to take note of the little things – like how your eyes seem brighter when you have no make up on.
- I promise to be annoying and needy and ever so slightly immature.
On paper, we don’t make sense. It’s a good thing that we aren’t just fictional characters. I am not your ideal man and you are not my ideal woman and yet I feel like a nervous teenager when I see you.
I’m ready to lose my bravado.
Love, Similar Mindfuck