A letter from Vanity

My dear, dear Max,

It’s been a long time, I know. I haven’t forgotten about you and you know it. It might look as if I had been hiding somewhere. Well, I have. I’ve been living like a hermit for some time. It was so hard to get used to your absence between March and… June? July? I can’t remember.

I’m incredibly proud (and full of arrogance) and I just refused to come back when you showed up.

I’m here now, and it’s because I’m afraid that my attitude, which I admit was out of place and inappropriate, could have hurt you. You or our awesome bond. And I can’t allow that to happen. I have to try to fix it. I have to try to reach you once again, to make a last attempt. That’s why I’m getting in touch now.

You’ve always been special to me. VERY special, I should say. The moments we shared, they’re all treasured in my mind, in the memory of my senses and my muscles… I guess you’ve already heard that before (or is it some kind of déjà-vu?).

I need to be close to you one more time, darling. I need your body, your touch, your voice, your breath… I need you, Max. You and only you.

Oh, okay, I won’t lie to you: I’ve got a nice collection of suitors. (You know, I love flirting!) Life went on after you left me, and I had to move on, too.

But I still need your magic… And the feelings you brought out in me with your mere presence are still there. They haven’t faded away. They just haven’t!

Please darling, come back to me. I need to hear you, to sense you, to feel you.

I’ll be waiting for you in the gallery every single night, at midnight. From 12 to 1.

Hope you’ll listen to my plea and grant me the gift of your masculinity.

Yours,

Vanity Fairchild.

PS: The world is a real wilderness without your kisses and caresses. Please, I beg you, don’t make me yearn for your voice, your hands and your lips as you did in the past…