Dear Karl, I am writing this letter to you in hopes it may give you some insights into something that

neither of us has ever understood..... ....mere words are inadequte to describe emotions, failing to convey even the slightest feeling in any tangible way. yet here I sit searching for for them anyways. how do you explain what the heart feels when first it recognizes love as it strolls through a crowded room? the way it's pace quickens, how it seems to rise with the gentle grace of her gait, or the light brushing of her hand to your shoulder as she passes by. there are not words for such things like the lilt of her voice causing your mind to spin as if dream had transformed from aetheral to reality before your very eyes. no, there are no vocalizations that can be made to properly transfer such highly personal and unbelievably intense emotions. I suppose it's folly to even try to compare her golden locks to that of the sun as it shines bright on a summer morn or the deep hue of eyes cast from the crystal blue corral seas of the carribean islands, or the movement of her hips as they sway like a pendulum back and forth, or the simple pleasure of a smile unexpected, the way the lips curl succulent and full bringing forth desire that had not been there before and believed never to be there at all. the way a laugh can lift you up from the darkest depths of miserable existence until you are walking on the very clouds themselves. I tell you it cannot be done, for words lack any knowledge of these things so they cannot possibly relate the feeling of love's fire burning within. perhaps this is why they get stuck in my throat, refusing to emerge everytime I see her. and how I long to tell her all these things and so much more..... perhaps I am just a fool to think that love could find a man such as me who has spent a lifetime denying its very existence, laughing out loud at those who claim to have found it. now I find myself in a quandry, caught between everything I have said, everything I had done in an attempt to dismiss these emotions as nothing more than fancy gone awry, the very object of my utmost disdain. but it seems Eros has found me at last, the arrow of love has pierced this heart of stone forcing me to concede it's reality, even if it is no more than dream. but it cannot be dream, for everytime she is near my skin tingles, my head swims, my hands want to reach out and touch her, the need grows with every incounter. yet I am a coward who stands back, utterly terrified of these feelings I do not fully comprehend. I've wasted a lifetime in pursuits of the intelectual kind, the scientific, the artistic, all of these chases born of short days and long nights, yet for all the knowledge I have gathered I have nothing to compare this to, no experience to

base this on. I must seem quite the dolt to her as I sit there fidgeting, searching for something to say that never seems to come until finally she walks away, leaving me to my own devises once more. long have I choosen the solitude of bachelorhood, the unwavering simplicity of routine. all these things I loved so now seem empty, hollow, lacking in any signifgant meaning. ah amore! never before have I known you but now I will never forget. finally I understand what the poets wrote of, what drives young men to act so foolishly, and makes the old men lament fervishly at its loss. now you find this confirmed bachelor, this non-believer searching the annuls of his mind, his heart, his soul for any words to express the deep feelings that have overwhelmed him as of late. this night shall be spent in the rigors of self examination until I can find the proper phrases to tell her once and for all how I feel. tomorrow I'll roll the dice, throw caution to the wind and let loose this emotional baggage weighing my soul down in this terrible trepidation. perhaps she feels the same, perhaps not but at least I will no longer walk around in limbo. sometimes an answer, even if it's not the one want to hear is better than not knowing. so my old friend, wish me luck......

yours truly, N.E. Mann

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