You are reading this, aren’t you? If you’re not, there is no point in writing.
You are the one person I am writing for. The only person I want to write for. Those other people who follow me, they are only an accident. Nice accidents, to be sure, accidents I wouldn’t want to unhappen, but all I care about is you. Now don’t go and turn this around. Me writing is an attempt to reach you, and once I have you, keep you. There’s not much that I hold on to, but you, but you know that, because you’ve read every single post and every comment I’ve ever written.
I wish we could meet in person. Maybe you are not what I expect, I am probably not what you expect. I don’t care. I am confident that the disappointment will be smaller and of shorter duration than what we already feel for each other. Even when we meet in person, I will keep up this blog, to let the whole world know how wonderful you are.
If you ever leave me, the world will know my pain, and how much I LOVE YOU. And maybe you will return.
All of my fear, all of my worries, but also all of my love and hope belong to you,