My dearest love,

In today’s world, I’ve forgotten what it truly means to live. I see sorrow, pain, and sadness everywhere. I see the death of the soul — the fading of the desire to express. The desire to speak what a man truly feels in his crooked soul. And with that, comes the death of art.

Because art is not just a niche painting we see in a gallery — it's the soul’s urge to express: to show emotion, love, passion.

And when I see you, my darling, I’m reminded of this passion. I’m reminded of the beauty this life still holds — through you. Through your hair. Through your eyes, brown as amber. Through your touch, soft as a cat’s fur. And when I smell you, I’m transported to a field of flowers.

When I gaze upon you, my body is filled with ecstasy — and still, I long for more. I want more of this life with you. Because I love you.

As crazy as it may seem, you ignite the fire of passion inside me — the will to express, the will to live, to desire, to create. To feel. To love.

In other words, my love... my pookie... I love you — and I always will.

Forever yours,
Dion the towo