It gives me a quaint feeling to discourse with you through a letter. I take immense pleasure in writing to you. Just like our beautiful conversations, I shall keep this pithy. Nothing said here is frivolous or facetious, and my intentions are honest, and sometimes brutally and crudely honest.
Emotions are a tricky business to me. It took me a long time to get comfortable with them, and even longer to express them. The fact that I am laying my emotions bare makes me feel full and peaceful. A totally unexpected event happened to me last week. This event was not pronounced when it commenced, but as it grew, I realised it was formidable—I am talking about my emotional bond with you. Developing an emotional connection with a person is never my top priority, and the last time I felt such a connection was more than half a decade ago, when I came of age. I almost forgot I can connect emotionally with anyone. Now, the precise reason why I’m writing this letter is that very emotional bond I felt with you. The euphoria from a passionate expression is every hedonist’s dream, and I am pursuing it too.
You can read the rest of the letter here, as I couldn't post the full letter due to character constraint: