Hey there. I miss talking to you. I know most of it is because of how busy you are, but I know another part of it, a big one, is that you chose to distance yourself from me. It wasn’t hard. I mean, there was already a physical distance. We’re on different time zones, even. And there was always an intense attraction between us. You figured it would make no sense to even try when we had so much obstacles, so we didn’t. And then I fell in love. And I heard from you even less. And it’s weird. Today I was cooking and I had Ella Fitzgerald playing. I had this image of you coming up from behind me and telling me “That is some sexy music, López” while I chopped onions. It’s ironic because I was cooking everything you try to stay away from; carb-loaded pasta, bacon, heavy cream, dark meat chicken. Also, it was weird because I’m happy. But I think of you sometimes, wondering where you are and what you’re doing. Now I’m not gonna call you or text you saying “hey, I just imagined us together” because there is no way one can do that without it sounding like “I want to be with you”. So I’ll just keep it to myself and write something that I’ll never send you and hope I get to hear from you soon. Take care, cowboy.