Sir,
What just happened? Is this a dream? An hallucination? What kind of sorcery is this? My insides are melting. This is some powerful stuff.
Unbelievable. Call it fate, destiny — or coincidence. But know that I don't believe coincidences are a thing.
You're cute asking if I'll miss you. Of course I fucking will. I even do when we interact daily, whenever we're not doing it.
I'm obsessed, addicted. To the rushes of dopamine, of adrenaline, of oxytocin, and a bunch of other chemical shit ending in "ine" that shoot through my bloodstream when you're around me. To your voice. To your laugh. To you.
It all came in fast for me — and I'm flabbergasted to now learn that you feel the exact same. I also adore you. You also put a huge smile on my face. I'm right there with you, sir. Not there "there" physically, just yet.
This is dangerous. I am in danger. No: I am the danger. No: you are the danger.
Let's not meet — because it would destroy the space-time continuum, suck our respective lives into a giant black hole, and create a new kind of matter we wouldn't be able to contain.
Or should we?