(from the CN Museum of Local History)
Asking a friend for his advice on an e-mail draft, a plain simple e-mail to one of my oldest friends from whom I haven't heard, he said bluntly:
Well it's fine. But it's a f****ing love letter.
I keep writing love letters. I can't stop it. Every e-mail, every missive is dripping with my dumb, battered heart. Everyone knows at all times what I am thinking.
I cannot stop myself from giving myself away.