But to have you here, in these e-mails, on this game once a week, is enough, because it is you. No matter whether we have the idyllic life of which we both dream, or paltry text that will never quite manage to convey the depths of our bond, it is still all you. All of your dark beauty and fiery personality and skill with the knife and skill with comforting and the skill to see the future and want the future and grow towards the future is still there, is still you. And it is you I love. No other. Not the pretty rooms on the game, not the mythical kitchen where we cook together and discover that food is worth eating for the first time, none of that. In the end it is only you and I, eye to eye, hand to hand, heart to heart.
I adore you, Magdalena’alaha Lynn, more perhaps than you can ever, ever know.