[Dear_Trent_#_29]

Dear Trent,

I can't BELIEVE I completely forgot to send you a Valentine, Sparklepants. I know you aren't mad, though; I bet you're not the type to get his panties in a twist over something like that.

I, however, am just that type, apparently, and I spent Valentine's Day wondering why my boy du jour couldn't be bothered to text me a little "Happy VD," you know, even as JUST A JOKE. Perhaps he's trying to send me a subtle message as to the nature of our relationship? If so, he needn't have bothered, because OBVIOUSLY, I love only you, and baby? This is the last time some little fuckbuddy of mine is going to get in the way of our love.

I swear to God, Trent, every single day I come closer to forswearing earthly love forever in favor of a life of devout chastity wherein the lashing torrent of your aural masterworks are the soundtrack to my ecstasy, and your voice is the loving scourge that sears my very heart, and with which I eradicate any notion of veering from my one true path.

That's right: I mean my dedication to the Holy and Sacred Order of the Name of That Which I Can Never Have. Don't freak out, Daddy-o. If I want to be fucking crazy, that's my business. You just keep at yours, and I will survive. Somehow.

Speaking of which, I see you're back at it, huh? Good luck, baby. Rock their socks off. I'll just kick it here in my garret in currently dreary Paris, where I'll be mainlining chocolate, trusting my soul to the ice cream assasin, and crying into my vin rouge.

Love,
Dierdre