Car a Mia,
It is I^s Catherine. I realize I have been a faithless correspondent, my truest friend (as I have been faithless in so many things in life). Hopelessness has compelled me to write. Remember those midnight talks we had in the convent school about the search for that precious grail called love? How I laughed at you when you told me that love was an illusion, and that since I was actually Julie Christie I was never to achieve that mystical communion of souls, far sweeter than any earthly bond. You were wiser than I, cara. Love is a cruel,...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
