I'm so sorry about deleting the link to your rare and unusual 28th printing Ham on Rye paperback! I don't know what I was thinking, depriving people here of access to such a jewel. I am deeply ashamed and I can only pray that you will somehow find it in your heart to forgive me.
Robert, if you stop loving me I don't know what I'll do. I won't be able to carry on. I look to you for guidance, you know that, and if you're not there, if I can't reach you, I fear I'll be undone! Rudderless and utterly lost. Just tell me what I can do to make up for it. Tell me what to change, how to please you. All I want in this world is your happiness, and I'll do whatever it takes to make you smile.
Is it my shoes? You called my shoes "frivolous" once, and I'm not afraid to admit that I still sting from that remark. I cried myself to sleep that night, my face deep in the pillow so as not to disturb your enjoyment of American Ninja Warrior in the other room.
Is it my hair? I'm sorry I don't use the flat iron you gave me for my birthday, but I'll start, I promise! I'll go to your sister's salon to get the ends trimmed, I will. To hell with my crippling fear of scissors!
But please, don't just disappear again. This place is empty without you. All I do is pace around, holding your University of Phoenix coffee cup in my hand, stroking the handle and watching the door, waiting for the knob to turn and for you to walk through. You don't have to bring flowers, just bring yourself. Please, Robert. Don't do this to me.