Ah, that just won't do, Eve. Now, it's not my place, I know, but you signed up for this and everything it came with, ya know. How would you like it if someone came into your life, took all your attention, adulation and went off it with somewhere later on a whim?
...
We're of the fickle sort, aesthetes, individuals, what have you -- but if I could set this pride down and beg, I would. So please. Don't leave me hanging.
Speaking of which, I suppose now's a terrible time to write, huh? I understand yet the only thing I truly await in the mail is a parcel from a contemporary far, far away.
I know I’m useless, I’ll try to get around to it at some point.