Hello Princess,

To start, I’ve literally never written a love letter like ever, and on top of that I’ve barely written anything beyond essays. So yes, I did google “how to write a love letter.” Forgive me if it’s a touch formulaic.

Do I write like how I usually type? Or should I spice it up and be super poetic? How many times should I edit and rewrite this sort of thing? I have no clue, and am ENTIRELY banking on “it’s the thought that counts.” Fear not, for I have soooo many thoughts.

Like, for example, I was feeling like hot ass, and then in my math class there’s this man who does not close his mouth long enough to process information and I thought: “I wish I could do homework with Ada.”

You are a brilliant and funny femme, and probably asking you for help with my homework would be so intellectually stimulating that my intellectual dick gets hard(is this too crude?), BUT the point is I actually just would like to spend time with you. Whether that be some wildly fantastic date or watching paint dry. (I would get bored looking at the paint and probably just look at you.)

Ada, you have no clue how much I light up when I recognize it’s you. Like there’s a special part in my brain made to go “look!! that’s ada!! release the chemicals!!”

Which has been true since I’ve first met you, honestly. I love how you say you love things. I love how you complain about things. I love how you gush whether that be about Joe or how much you love butches.

It’s absolutely adorable and so sweet how you have nicknames for the butches in your life. Like Sunflower and Hercules. You put so much thought in how you love the people of your life. I’m a little jealous in a way. You share so much with your dad like he’s a friend, you make every butch you meet like their floating, you bond with so many people because of how considerate you are when you love. The feeling is a bit like getting a compliment from a movie star. What you say sticks to me. I still see so much uncertainty in how the future would play out, but I know your words and face will follow me to my deathbed.

Which is super weird to say, there was a point where I could only imagine myself as young and immortal, but I could imagine growing up and growing old.

Especially if that’s with you.

Your silly billy,

Riley