At night the following letter was stuck to my handle-bar:
"It's been three days since I wrote you, my dear. Remember? Have you noticed? I’m sitting here by your bed just watching you. I’m watching you sleep. By the way, in the meanwhile I’m solving the riddle: if I’m holding your left breast in my left hand and your right breast in my right hand, it’s possible that my arms aren’t crossed. Maybe I’m standing behind you, and I’m holding you. I won’t let you. And together with you I’m not falling down myself. I love you. "
I love him.
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