THE ABE'S BOX OF LOVE AND JOY AND CRYING PUPPIES

[Valence Nightingale]

UH

NOT TAKE MIRROR UH

ABE LIKES ALL VALENTINES FROM ALL PEOPLE

[VANESSA FERRE]

The Galahad writes with a shaky hand, a letter of beautiful proportions and floral-scented perfume -- it is within a decorated envelope of ivory, bordered with gold. Because the Galahad is tacky. The Galahad had wished to write the Abe a love letter of unequaled length and love, but holds the letter, sealed with a golden stamp, with trembling palms. A letter for the Abe, the Galahad thinks, with a slight blush -- perhaps the Galahad should leave now before embarrassment chomps the ass, but no! The Galahad has come too far, and put too much effort into the carefully crafted letter to turn back now. And so, it was time to gather all of the courage and all of the strength to place the letter within the Abe's box. The letter reads as so:

Dear The Abe,

I give you greetings, however formal or informal, and I would ask how you are doing, but that would be a little off the point, and I would also ask how the weather is, but that would be completely inefficient as we are communicating by letter -- but ah, look at me, rambling. It is truly unlike me to rant, especially to one such as you, the Abe, so wonderful, so glorious, so completely and utterly scintillating -- ah, more rambling.

But I suppose, I shall attempt the point now, not that I don't want to, but you see, it's a little difficult especially on such a short notice and during such a short time. You understand, do you not? And I know we haven't known one another for too long of a duration -- perhaps a few nights, even fewer morns... Not to say anything scandalous, oh god forbid!

But these last few days, I find myself thinking, and thinking very much. My mind has been plagued by the days we've spent together; perhaps "plagued" is not the proper term -- flooded? engulfed? Oh, words elude me now, how you've taken the silver from my tongue!! Not that I blame you, of course! Never! Look at me, a mess from writing a simple letter...upon a certain day...for a certain time of year.

Anyhow, I shall continue; you must forgive my, the Abe, for my mind is a little scattered or preoccupied at the moment, but I thought that I should write this before courage fails me or before the whiskey leaves my blood. Like I said, I've been preoccupied with thoughts of those nights and days, preoccupied with what is us, what is between us...

I wouldn't assume anything, it would certainly be much to arrogant to think anything of the sort. But, you wouldn't know what sort I was talking about, would you. After all, it may be too much to hope for, but hope is what I have and courage so I shall tell you.

Lately, I've been swept away, truly, by the little moments we have together, your little doodles of hearts, your little words, the way you cry, "THE GALAHAD!!!" with the most enthusiasm. And I feel a flutter within my chest or perhaps a leap, and I think, "my, is this my heart?" Then I wonder what has this Abe done?! Not that it is a bad thing, mind you.

Look at this RAMBLING, truly I don't mean to. I'm not myself as of now, but I must do this thing -- this important thing. The Abe, what I mean to say is that as of late, I have been quite enamored and I suppose giddy -- or giddy isn't correct after all. Joyful, perhaps. Joyful for your presence. How I blush as this pen flies across the parchment with fleeting abandon!

And it has been a recent thing, I truly hope you don't find me too brash or impulsive or such and such, but I have decided with utmost will that I shall tell you today. Something that I hope will not be a secret, or a shame or anything of that sort. I wish to tell you of the affections I have for you, the Abe, affections from the bottom of my heart, brimming over the top to spill into my veins like ecstasy. And even my veins cannot hold it any longer as I have too little blood in this body to even carry such lovely weight. I must share it...with you.

Yes, the Abe, it is true.
I...I...I like you, or so I should say the following?
I love you, the Abe.

[/color]
Won't you be my Valentine?

Much Sincerity and Love,

T[/size]he Galahad[/i][/blockquote]

The Galahad lets out an unknown breath and touches the clothed chest to still a beating heart as light feet shuffle away with thistle upon cheek.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[Jack Craven]

>.> So like, I can't match up to par with Galahad's love note... not to mention, I don't know you. STILL! I come with holiday wishes, and came to share the care.

Happy Valentine's Day. ♥