Dearest Wally,

My grandma always said you can't mess anything up with a good, old fashioned letter. If my grandma knew what a mess i left behind in our lovely hometown, she would tell me to throw all my envelopes, paper and pens out of the window and never, ever contact you. But life is short, my heart strings strong, and my sadness infinite.

My life should be happy, because i have everything a women could dream of, a sunny apartment in the center of Paris (with one in Nagoya), a well paid and satisfying job of Fashion Designer, a boyfriend, well looking, wealthy and a real gentleman. To be honest, i was happy for the first 6 years of my life, because everything was new and the best adventure in the whole universe. We didn't need any starships, dragons, a tower as the clouds in the sky that would keep us apart. We had each other, this big wonderful city, and, of course, a fancy car that would take us to whenever we wanted. Just name it, Saint Tropez, Bordeaux, Lyon and any goddamn city you could ever think of is in France. You don't believe? You can go there and bet all your belongings that you'll find our names marked on a tree in a big heart. How pathetatic i was, thinking that my whole life will look like this and he will keep all his love in this world for me. Just me.

Love is not about hearts carved in a tree in Lyon, it's about taking your girl to a hospital when she's feeling sick, waking up to see your love done sleeping by your side, sharing a favourite song, welcoming your soulmate with a home cooked dinner and sharing a kiss of everlasting love. Am i foolish? Oh rats, now you have my tears on my letter. The thing is, that kisses turted to punches, money turned to shots, and our fancy car turned into unpayed debts, with me being stuck in Paris for another 4 years. This is how long i have been without you Wally, for 10 years thinking about you every second of my life. I can't count the tears i have shed for you, wasted hours rewriting this letter over and over again, making it perfect. In the end, i'll find this letter absolutely childish, and rip it off once again. But i can't do this anymore Wally, i have to let my feelings out, for i may never see your face again. Just the fact i will never see your smiling face again makes my heart break into the pieces.

I remember our dear friend Abigail asking me, if i won't regret running away to Paris after school. With a proud face, and stubborn heart i said no, and turned my back to her. But i regret it. If you want, i will got on the top stair of Eiffel tower and yell it out so the world could hear it. Sometimes i imagine it, my feet shaking while i'm standing on the railing, my hair blowing into my face, and heart beating so fast and hard it will explode. I take a deep breath, and start yelling that i regret dumping you after that unfortunate kiss you shared with Jessica Daniels, regret leaving my friends and family, falling in love with the first goddamn person i have met at the aiport bar in New York. And then i would jump, and shocked tourists would watch my body falling to the ground. That' s what i dream of.

You see, we'll never see each other again. It's not our destiny, although i know we're meant for each other and our hearts are longing to beat together side by side. We may be separated by our stubborness, hundred of miles, broken promises and hearts, but you're always, and forever will be in my heart, and will carry you in it to the end of the world, for you're the love of my life and my only reason to live, so i could think of your a little longer. I don't mind the pain i feel, the hell i live in, just thinking of you carries me away from all of it.

Wally, i love you. Always and forever, completely and honestly, this is the promise i will never break. This is the reason why i decided to write you this letter, so you would know you were not a wasted part of my life. You were the best.

Kuki Sanban.

It was a chaotic day on the post office in Cleveland, Ohio. To make it even better, the temperature hit 39° degrees and the fans weren't as effective as the employees were hoping.

„Last box!" yelled the head of the letter sorting center and pushed it into the arms of already tired Jessica Daniels. The head of the letter trading center couldn't believe that someone as wealthy and incapable as Jessica was sent here to help them during the summer. Jessica' s fiancé, Trevor Peckett, a bussinesman thought it would be very helpful to Jessica if she knew how much work it takes before she will be able to buy another purse that cost 20 000 dollars.

„Are you kidding me?" said irritated Jessica and threw the box on the trading table. The head of the letter sorting center just waved her goodbye and left by the front door. Completely frustrated, she spilled the letters on the table, threw the box behind her and grabbed few of the letters. Jessica was sorting them into two piles, CENTER and SUBURBS. She was sorting them, thinking about the new Valentino skirt she saw back in New York, when she saw it, the name she hated most back in High School, written on the white envelope.

„This is gonna be fun" Jessica smirked to herself, and hid the envelope in her pocket.