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Here's your smokin hot love letter - just fill in the blanks


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These days, what passes for romantic communication between modern folks would make far-flung soldiers, temperamental poets and star-crossed lovers of yore throw down their calligraphy pens and weep into the nearest bosom. Gone are the ribbon-bound stacks of letters whose finger-worn pages declared breathless, eternal love. And in their stead? "I wll luv u 4-eva!" you might be so lucky to receive—via text. For-eva eva? Well, at least until your inbox gets too full and you have to empty it.

Modern conveniences though they are, texting, emailing and social networking have reduced the lovestruck to the breezy exchanges typical of junior high. So how to capture the affections of your intended with the kind of permanence befitting true love? By writing them one bona fide, swoon-worthy, capital-G great love letter. With a pen. And paper. And if thine love ends up fading? Well, you've just given your ex something to destroy, because nothing quells the raging fire of heartache like watching an old love letter burn to a crisp.

So grab some perfumed stationery and your best ballpoint. The pen is mightier than the (key)board.

A great love letter is ultimately one enormously exaggerated compliment. Don't bother taking your temperature, because the somewhat sensationalized, "Every time I am near you, I tremble in feverish anticipation of your touch," still slays 'em better than, "Yo, gurrrl, I really wanna get with you." Even if the latter is technically more accurate.

A great love letter is a four-parter, and it should do the following things. First, it should suggest to your intended that he or she is the only person in the entire world who catches your eye. Is this a bold-faced lie? Naturally. But such is the glue that binds the social fabric. So don't blow it by mentioning that you were drooling over smokin' hot ladies on America's Next Top Model before you wrote to declare amore.

Next, you must express an all-encompassing compulsion for this person. Not only does your love for them envelop you completely, but it is constant and eternal. The sort of love that keeps you up at night, distracts you on the job and sends you out into the world in a surreal, dreamlike state. A good love letter suspends disbelief, as if you and your beloved are in some snowy shake-up globe of a world, unaffected by time.

Third: There should be copious compliments peppered throughout this letter. You're rolling out the red carpet here, so keep the lighting dim and flattering. Draw attention to your significant other's mind and body. For it is not just their bone structure that draws you to them, exquisitely chiseled though it may be, but also their rapier wit, their rock-hard abs, their dynamic repartee, their rock-hard abs, etc. Unlike accessories, which you should always reduce by one before leaving the house, take any number of compliments you've already come up with in your letter and double them.

And finally, you must express that this love you feel—this knee-weakening, pulse-quickening thing which has invaded you guerilla-style and planted its rebel flag—is brand new. Unparalleled. It is as remarkable in its originality as it is terrifying in its depth. I don't care if you're rebounding, thrice divorced or a serial monogamist: You've just been bowled over with wonderment at this thing we call love. And it will not quit. So go ahead and pine with reckless abandon.

But if all that seems like too much work, just use this mad-lib:

Dear (Proper Noun),

It’s (time) a.m./p.m., and all I can think about is your (body part noun). I truly can’t believe you exist. I’m all kinds of (adjective) about it. So, somewhere between trying to (verb) and (verb), I felt compelled to write a little something.

For starters, it’s insanely (adjective) to (verb) for way too long on the (noun). The thing is: I’m almost getting bored with being un-bored with you. Seriously, please try to lay me out with some awful (noun) or start texting me (plural noun). Please, break this spell right in two with (noun). Wake me up from this daydream. You’re too (adjective) and I (verb) it.

What I’m really trying to grasp is what (noun) you’ve thrown into my life to awaken my (noun). I get these waves of (noun) down my spine. I think you’ve wrecked my (noun). And my (noun). And I think you’re trying to (verb) my (noun), but those defenses are still holding their ground. You mentioned that you forgot what I looked like today and I agreed. But I can’t shake how you (verb). Or how you (verb). Those are incredibly (adjective) recollections.

Since we met, it’s really been nothing but thinking about (verb-ing) you. It’s going to be difficult to convey just how (adjective) all of it is, and I might not even get a good try going in this sitting. But between the (verb-ing), (verb-ing), (verb-ing) and (verb-ing), I just don’t know what to do besides be really (adjective) about all this. Honestly, you feel so damned (adjective) it’s (adjective), and being able to talk all night about (plural noun) and (plural noun) at greased lightning speed is the best thing around.

Mostly, I just feel this (adjective) pull toward you. And mostly, I wish I had a (noun) of yours here tonight. Or maybe just a (noun). But mostly, I’m all yours.



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