My dearest Isla,
I will do anything to get you in my hands.
Well, almost anything. I do have my limits.
I will cry big ugly tears for you.
I will give you my first born child. (Although I may not have children. They are messy. And they sneeze without covering their mouths. No thank you.)
I will throw a drink at somebody’s face for you. (Even though I’ll probably get slapped or even arrested for doing that. Can I get arrested for doing that?)
I will steal a street sign for you. (I’m pretty sure I read about this in a book somewhere. But which book?)
I will eat pickles for you. (Did I mention how much I hate pickles?)
I will call a stranger on the phone (I hate talking on the phone) and try to talk to the stranger for an hour for you. (Talking on the phone. With a stranger who might as well be an unknown serial killer. For an hour. EEP.)
I will say “YOLO” every time my friends talk to me. (I will probably get defriended asap, but anything is worth it to get you Isla.)
I will read the “L,” “M,” and “N” encyclopedia for you. (I did this once in 5th grade out of boredom and it was torture.)
I will sell my soul for you.
I won’t touch a spider for you though. Oh no. I’ll probably die doing that and what’s the point of having you when I’m a dead Kelly? I can’t read you then.
The verdict: I can’t bloody wait until August 14, 2014.
46 days, 14 hours, and 50 minutes to go.
If only I had a time machine.