this is still the nicest letter...

any boy has ever written to me.

Dear Breanna Lee Conklin,
Bare with me as I throw myself at the gates; also baring in mind this letter juxtaposes the peril of not being your friend and band-mate and the fact that you have probably heard this shit a million fucking times. I guess I have always been attracted to you, but years ago its expression was unlearned and in-web (defunct and maybe less real), I hope now—the reception of me is quite different as I have come to some conclusions as to my happiness and what it entails; I can also decipher my own intrinsic feelings with clarity to follow through much better.

I understand that you feel directionless right now, with no job and no plans for the future, this letter’s intent is not necessarily meant to capture that, I hold not illusions as to whether we are individuals or not. I had hoped to hold my tongue until further rugs were laid out, but this letter came out like one. I have no intent on throwing myself at your feet in objective reality but in subjective reality I am at least on my knees. in respect for you and myself. My feelings grow at increasing intervals, and it must be said.

I enjoy being around you and you being in the proximity of myself, your company is truly something I have longed for in a person and in a woman. I am not sure where to start on the ways in which to equate my expressions as to why. I probably shouldn’t start at the risk of making something too concrete, which makes evolution sometimes hard. Plus I jeopardize the duality language possesses. The smell of your hair or you touching me on accident drives me crazy, and even the sight of you! I think gravity may have something to do with it. I may be fucking crazy but we will surely see.

I propose no direct or immediate change in our relationship, nor am I asking anything of you, I think that you and I will culminate on our own accord and our actions to their own accord; good or bad, to here or there, that thought carries little weight with my own thoughts or the expression of them. I trust in the honesty, judiciousness, and the courage to carry out both of certain individuals, that those who wish to entertain my ethics, language, and feelings will do so. As to whether this letter jeopardizes our friendship and band-mateship, we will see, I don’t want you to think about it, I really want to be your friend and your band-mate. even as well.
Kit (Christopher)
P.S. Growing up I read a lot of cowboy novels and Kit Carson was my favorite one (though he was an Indian killer) and his real name was not Kit Carson, it was Christopher Houston.