Sometimes, a lady can be so beautiful that their radiance is actually keeping gents from coming close. You, my dear, is one of those ladies.
Sometimes, a gent is confident enough to approach such lady, unknowingly being the first to come close. I, milady, am not one of those gents. Yet.
You, milady, have the riches, the position, and much higher view of society. While I, well, am simply ordinary man contemplating about you.
If our life was tales of children’s bedtime, I would gladly offer my companionship. Alas, this is the real world we’re living on, is it not?
“Flowers need water, girls need love and compliments, men need to feel strong. –simple”, you quoted. Ah, sweet words milady, sweet words. Simple as they are. But of course, simple is obviously a subjective adjective. And I beg to differ.
Men need to feel strong. That I concur. But your presence never fails to wane mine. As the wise says, men wilt before women.
Milady, we are strangers to each other; with me knowing so little of you from the words and pictures scattered in this realm of infinite bounds, and having a perfect anonymity with you. Alongside my song for your absolution, I admit of my fondness to you; yet what is my confession but a congregation of words.
For now, I still do not have the heart, nor the riches, to construct the bridge. But if God gave consent, we will find “us”, together. I would sincerely hope, well, I don’t think I have anything yet to be hoped for, haven’t I? Thus, ends my complacent sentiment of our non-existent acquaintance. Thank you.