What I really want to say is this: You can count on the fact that I wont give up—never. That nothing and no one will ever force me to my knees. That one day I will repay your brave love. That I will see to it that you dont have to work like a slave anymore. That one day I will make so much money by my own wits that Ill even be able to buy you one of those Burberry coats (even though theyre so last year), a pair of black leather mittens like youve always wanted (your claim being that mittens are warmer than gloves, which makes sense, I suppose), and handcrafted Tods driving shoes, the kind the big time movie stars used to wear when they drove from LA to Vegas.

You will drink as much real coffee (enough of that Maxwell House shit) and eat as many hot-out-of-the-oven rolls with real Alsatian honey (from France, mom, trust me its the best) that you desire.

You wont have to pretend: the windows in your new house wont be cracked and the shutters will be freshly painted.

Its blue inside. Theres a pie cooling on the sill.

You ll look forward to seeing your little girl. This time you ll even like my hair.

In the evenings we ll drink sparkling cider by the sea.

destroy evil

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