Post-Modern Drunk: Real Love, Doll
My dearest.

I know that this is sudden. I've hardly introduced you to any of my friends--I've kept our relationship quiet up until this point, letting it grow and develop into whatever it is and will be. So it's abrupt that I would just now be shouting it from the rooftops, as it were, and announcing our love to the entire world.

But, dearest snookums, dearest Anna Mae, I can't help but want everyone to know how much I love you and cherish all of our albeit brief time together. I tell you this every night we are together, but I must use this V-Day to share--I do adore you.

Oh, sure, there were times when I began to suspect that I'd made a horrible mistake--scraping together over six thousand dollars gives you a lot of moments to pause and consider, what the hell am I doing? Do I really need an anime Real Doll? Shouldn't I better apply this money to something a little closer to home rather than importing something from across the country?

The answer, of course, is no. You, my sweet, have been everything I wanted and more. You are the perfect woman: stubbornness, foolishness, discontent, or a tendency to criticize others and bear grudges, these are not things that ail you. You are infinitely patient with me, putting up with me when I am in my moods, and you bring me back around--I am happy and content and comfortable when I'm with you, like I am with no others.

You make me so much happier than my previous relationship, with that tramp, the piles of clothes girlfriend. You never get wrinkled, or go through massive weight gain or loss, or poke me in places I shouldn't be poked.

Oh, my love, you drive me to distraction. I shall be home from work soon, and we can be together once again. Just lie back and think of Nippon, and I shall be with you shortly. I shall draw you a hot bath, to warm your latex from the cold winter day, and then we shall make sweet sweet love all night long.

You were made for me.

Your loving Stucat.

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