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Dear Balsam,
Do you have any idea how much I love you? Everything about you is so, so perfect. You're funny, you're sweet, you're cute – I couldn't have asked for a better partner.
I constantly remember the day we met – you were at the local library hosting your book club, and I was there for a research paper I was working on. I had become fully engulfed in my studies, and felt so very alone. But I insisted on finishing this project, no matter what. I abandoned many close friends because of this. I had thought that this was just the price of being a scholar.
But then I saw you, bright and full of life. You were talking about Shakesquare with such passion and care, you clearly knew an incredible amount about the topic – and yet you weren't alone. Others were engaging in the conversation alongside you, and you joked and laughed, yet still, the conversation was deeply profound. I couldn't help but eavesdrop, and I still remember many of the points you brought up. You made literature exciting and fresh to me for the first time in years.
When you and your book club left, I heard you say that you'd be meeting again at the same time next week, and I decided I'd stop by again. I didn't mean it to be at all creepy – I just desperately wanted to hear what you had to say. So I returned, week after week, listening in on your discussions.
After a few weeks of this, you seemed to notice my presence, and after your meeting ended, you approached me. You sat down at the table with me, and asked what I was studying. I began to explain my topic of research, and you listened attentively, nodding along, your eyes showing genuine interest, and offered your own opinions on what I was saying. I had never seen my research this way – not a lonely pursuit, but a conversation between scholars. I had been hiding away for so long, but you finally broke me out of that.
You asked if we could meet up more often, and I said yes with no hesitation. We met at the library, at coffee shops, the park, eventually each others' houses. Those days of passionately discussing both the essays I was writing and the novels you were reading are some of my happiest memories.
I am so, so happy I met you. I don't know what my life would be if I hadn't. To be quite honest, I don't like thinking about that possibility. I truly believe that you saved my life, Balsam. I owe you everything.
Sincerely, Fleur