Hey There, Delilah

Hey there Delilah,

What's it like in New York city? The nights out here in the country are cold, but fabulous. It's great being away from all the noise and all the people, but missing you is the hardest thing to bear. Love's to blame.

I had so many things to say to you, but I forgot them all in an instant, when I remembered the first time I asked, "Will you grow old with me?" I have high hopes that next time you'll say yes. Our broken love is well and truly fixed: she's gone now, she's never coming back again. I love you, Delilah, only you.

Our love is infinite. We can go places all over the globe: we could live at different poles, but our love would always remain. My friends all told me to give up on you, to go after Agnes because she was rich; but true love does not factor in riches, and neither does my love for you. I know I feel 10 feet tall whenever I'm next to you, but that's also how tall you make my heart feel, when you're with me.

I hope this short letter finds you well, and provides you with a reimbursement of my love for you. My infinite love. We won't see each other for a while, you and I, but remember this: my burning heart is yours.

Au revior, Delilah.

Love, Samson.