Dear,
It's getting pretty cold outside. I've been cold the past few nights, sleeping alone for a change. Tonight they'll be back, I won't be alone anymore. But maybe I'll still be lonely, maybe I'll still be cold.
I started wondering what it would be like to cosy up with you under a blanket, wondering if your hands are warm — unlike theirs which are always deadly cold — wondering if you'd touch me gently or flip me around like a crêpe. I love crêpes, they're delicious. Then I remembered the promise I made just yesterday, I think. I am not to think of you in this way, in any way. But it's haaarrrddd…
Just one last tick on the clock then everything will dissipate, as it should. I was nice while it lasted, wish we could stick around a bit longer but I don't see that happening.
But I'ma leave the door open, just in case.