Lisbon, 14 of February of 2011

Dearly Beloved,

I decided to write you, to tell anda I try to keep my cinta for anda in a aman, brankas hidden from time, together with the tenderness of our words and the sweetness of our moments. I hide myself away in musik whenever I feel alone, when I want to express what I wasn’t able to, no matter how much I wanted to do so in a conversation. When I’m with anda I just can’t seem to be mad, for your eyes unarm any recriminations, and I just want to hold my arms around you, to be your safety port.

It hurts to breathe, believe me. My heartbeat is similar to the annoying...