This is not romantic fiction or a sexy tale
I can tell you this. I had my heart set on you from the moment your eyes fell on this page. Wait. Stop. Please stay here with me. I don't know you and you don't know me – indulge me for a moment. I can only say this. I was determined to have you totally and utterly. How was I to achieve this you may ask?
My attempt to learn ballroom dancing was first. I would sweep you off your feet. Sadly, this was a terrible, unmitigated failure. I tried so hard for years but still I could not dance in time. I would have trodden on your feet and annoyed you. I would danced off the beat and irritated you. I would have looked like a fool trying to tango and embarrassed you. And, I can tell you, I was thoroughly sick of the sound of salsa from the moment I first heard it – but I forced myself to continue. For you.
Then there was music. I would sing and make your heart melt. I tried so hard to learn music. I would sing and play for you. Just to make you smile. This was not my finest hour. I played too many, so many, bad notes. It was not good. It was certainly not good enough for you. You deserve so much more.
Next came writing. Yes I wanted to write a book. I wanted to write a book. For you. I could read it to you and look at your face as I recited the passages. Then I did it. It was not good. Next, I wrote a childrens book as they are easy. Wrong. It was rubbish or only slightly better than rubbish. Children would have cried tears of boredom. You would have shouted me down. I was not going to give up easily. I wrote another childrens book. It was a bit better.
And, now, the culmination. I am writing something for you, personally.