Why…why don’t you get it? I just spent the last hour and a half, as Brother so impatiently pointed out, talking to you about all these things, and feeling more and more that you are The One for me, and you still don’t notice…. And here I’m armed with yet more reasons why I want to be with you, and only you. People are different. Everyone is different. That’s what the world is about–getting along with people who all think and act and feel differently from one another; it’s the ABC’s of psychology. It can feel quite alien at times. But talking to you tonight, and other nights, I feel like you are the one person in the world with whom I can fully communicate and understand, and you understand things the way I do, and we feel the same about so many important things. We behave differently, but we think and feel so similarly. The more we talked, and the more extrinsic to this world I felt, the more it felt as though I were talking with myself, the way I do when I feel alone…and this growing loneliness completely subsided when I realized I am not talking to myself, that there is someone else who thinks and feels like I do. You did not know this, of course, but there were a few times–just during the conversation tonight, disregarding countless others–when you said things so reminiscent of other things that I wrote in that very long letter to you a few months ago. You said that you wish to complete something, preferably artistic, in order to feel more confident, comfortable with yourself…I said that; I told you, in that letter, to finish something. There were maybe two other comments you made, just tonight, that made me immediately recall the letter, so uncannily; it seemed you’d read my mind. The thought had to have crossed yours. You must have thought, “Look how similar our minds are”…you stated more than once that you felt alone, and I know I said it, and holding your gaze as I did, while thinking so resolutely as I was that we are the only two normal people alive…I’m certain I must have communicated that to you in some small way. I’ve always found you so perceptive in that you can almost read my mind…. I love you. I don’t know how else to put that. I want this bond; I want to strengthen this level of communication. I get such a high out of connecting with you in this way–I can’t even describe it. …How can I show you? How can I make it sink in? How can I make you want it too? …I don’t even know where to start.