He slowly picked it up and just as he was about to read it he decided to sit somewhere else in case Virgil woke up
Dee,
I honestly don't know how to feel anymore, it's-strange, no one's ever really spoken to me the way you do, or well-written, I suppose... no one's ever said such beautiful things to me, no one's ever sent me flowers-and now all of the sudden I have someone who seems to care, in ways no one ever has.... it's new, and wonderful and terrifying...
I don't know how you feel. Honestly, how could I...and well what if I am misinterpreting? What if I make things out to be more than they are and this strange, beautiful, wonderful fragile thing just ends up being...well, ordinary...and I suppose I'm scared...because what if once you start falling, you never really stop...?
All my meaning in flowers,
Virgil.