Page 41 of Give Me a Reason

Dear Anne,

I wrote a poem about you that I’m never going to show you.

Do not ask me to show it to you. Don’t even think about asking me. Because the answer is no. Absolutely not.

Why did I write it in the first place if I’m not going to show it to you? Because. Just because.

Ugh, fine. I had to write it, okay? Sometimes I think about you, and I feel like my heart is going to explode. So I wrote it all down. As a poem.

God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this. These letters are dangerous. I tell you way more than I ever would in person. That was your diabolical plan from the beginning, wasn’t it? To make me talk about my feelings .

My feelings for you? They’re too… big. It’s overwhelming sometimes. But that just means that I have to become stronger so I can hold you in my heart. I have to become strong enough to love you with everything in me. Strong enough to deserve you.

And yeah. That’s the gist of the poem that we must never speak of. Except the actual poem rhymes.

You’re going to ask me to show it to you, aren’t you?

Damn it. I won’t be able to say no if you ask me.

Okay, there’s only one way to stop you from reading the poem.

I have to burn it. I have to do it right now.

I’m serious. By the time you read this letter, there will be no poem. So don’t ask me if I really burned it.

Bye now. I love you, Anne.

Forever yours,

Frederick