Dear Ms. Isabella Marie Swan,
I am very upset that I have received no response whatsoever from you to my initial letter. I understand that it probably caused offense, but please understand that it never occurred to me that you would be offended by my mentioning your embarrassing condition to the crowd at the party, my therapist and the gentleman who assisted me with my first letter to you. He works at Kinko’s.
Please allow me to say that I am truly sorry for offending you. I promise that you will never have to worry about me discussing your problems with anyone but you and my therapist (I must be allowed to discuss things that concern me, and your condition certainly applies. I am very concerned about your problems.)
Dr. Cullen also advised me that it was inappropriate for me to mention my sexual desires in my first letter to you. I still have them, but this is the last I will say on that subject here. Just know that you are still in most of my thoughts throughout the day.
It is thoughts of you (and not all of them sexual—please pardon my bringing sex up again) that have been my primary obsession since our meeting. The frequency and intensity of these thoughts has increased over time. Even though I am quite certain at this point that you are not interested in having any interaction with me, I cannot help but continue to think of you. I am frightened of never speaking with you again when I think of what I’ve done to upset you. I am so eager to make it right that I am writing this letter, with only the slimmest hope of a response.
I am so engrossed in thoughts of you, that even punishing myself with removal of behaviors that afford me the merest relief is not sufficient to repress them. I’ve practically stopped measuring, and I don’t wash as often as I prefer. Instead, I find myself surrounded by memories of our one meeting, and fantasies of future meetings.
I considered going to see you at your apartment, but when I got to the subway entrance, I couldn’t help but vomit for fear of contamination. I did stand there after I vomited for five whole minutes, hoping that once my stomach was completely empty, I would be able to make the effort for you. I am very sad to report that I continued to dry-heave until I left the area.
But, if you say the word, I will try again to ride the subway to get to you. I could wear a Tyvek suit, perhaps, or other protective gear. I feel especially comfortable with latex, so that would certainly be an option; although, when I initiated a Google search for a full-body latex suit, I was concerned that the proprietors of the websites were less interested in cleanliness than I was. Indeed, there was lots of talk about being dirty and a few about being “kinky.” Are you familiar with this term? I had to look it up. Apparently, there are people who enjoy all kinds of unusual types of sexual intercourse, including, but not limited to, latex wearing.
I found it extremely odd that someone would use latex for anything other than sanitary satisfaction, but I would never question the motivation behind any kind of sanitary sex.
Please allow me to apologize for bringing up sex again. It was entirely unintentional. I just wanted you to know that I have done some research to be able to come and see you. But I worry, if you are at all familiar with sexual perversions, that you may be offended if I were to show up at your door in a full-body latex suit. That is an important consideration, and I will continue to carefully weigh the pros and cons before I move forward with any plan like that. In addition, the suit itself could take several days to arrive, and then I’d have to be certain that it was properly sanitized before I would don it.
Let me tell you, one last time, how very sorry I am for offending you. Please take note: I would gladly just be your friend, if you would let me.
This has not been a formal request for a response. My only intent has been to apologize for offending you. If however, you feel compelled to contact me and accept my apology, I would certainly welcome it.
Of course, I am still considering coming by your apartment. So, please don’t be surprised if I do.
Sincerely, and with best wishes for your health and happiness (I stole that last bit from Pride and Prejudice by an English author named Jane Austen, who is unfortunately deceased.),
Edward Anthony Masen