cross-posted from: https://lemmy.world/post/4628044

Dear Veronica (or writers for Veronica),

Please don't compare yourself to a mystical beast. In Eastern culture, beasts like Pixiu, Qilin, Suanxi were named due to their complexity, honor, power and excellence. You in no way match the beauty and divinity of these creatures.

I'm bringing you back to reality and back into Western culture where we slay dragons in this culture.

Going forward I now name you "Veronica". Simple like a cartoon character and purely evil and destructive as the character she plays.

Welcome Veronica. Let's all give her a warm welcome.

Mia Carissima Bella Regina,

One of the most beautiful of all women I have had the pleasure to call my own, if only for a temporary moment in time. You were my first true crush and love. Your face and body, pure perfection, combining the purity of Vesta, with the allure and beauty of Venus.

My father would always call you Gina Lollobrigida, although we all knew you had more of the beauty of a young Sophia Loren. He always became so chatty when you were around, and was proud of me for such a catch.

I still remember the first time we met at the lake in Connecticut. I had opened the back door to see who was knocking, and there you were, absolute beauty. My heart started to pound through my chest. I thought I would have a heart attack at my young age. You turned bright red and in a panic you ran away. If one believes in love at first sight, this was truly such an event.

I remember our first date when I came to your home. Your father, a decorated police officer, first greeted me at the door, and with a stern look asked me to come in. He had all his awards and accommodations plastered throughout the house. He might have well been cleaning his shotgun in the kitchen, for all it mattered. We were on the couch in your basement. Thinking your father was lurking around every corner, I was too skittish to make my move to kiss you, and I bailed out at even the slightest thought of violating his daughter with a kiss. Do you recall cooking pasta for me and using tomato soup as the gravy? I knew you were 100% Italian by birth, but it was then that I realized that culinary expertise was not something automatically inherited by ethnicity. 😂

When we finally did kiss at my home by the pool side, it was heaven on earth and fireworks were in the air. I remember, you had almost fainted from the passion and you could hardly walk a straight line, and I could barely breath. It was the first time that I discovered how painful it was being away from someone and wanting them with such a desire that it churned my stomach and made me sick with love every single day I was not with you.

Despite the passion and desire, we never had the chance to make love until we were older, when we reunited. It was like heaven on earth when we did. Oh! how long awaited it was. When we were together, people would call us Ken and Barbie. We laughed when I mentioned that I had hoped the reference wasn't because of Ken's lack of lower appendages. 🤣

But there was someone else in the picture, and the day came, where you two stood in my backyard. If looks could kill, there would be two jealous Italian women that would tear each other apart just to have me. I have to admit, it felt really good, although I knew it was wrong. Neither of you looked at each other for long, but were courteous enough to pretend civility. I could see in your eyes that you both wished for the other's death and burial. My mother looked on in awe, questioning in her mind, when the eye gouging and clawing would begin.

Unfortunately, I chose her, and we were married. I wish I chose you. My life would have been so much better with you. I did hear that you were married as well, and with child, but your marriage ended in the same treacherous fate of deception that mine did. For that I am so sorry.

My mother did tell me you called the house to see how I was doing. I was long gone, and I moved 3000 miles away to escape the similar disaster that you experienced. There was too much pain to stay. I want to tell you that you almost gave my mother a coronary when you told her that your child looked like me. When she told me, I almost fell over and immediately started counting the years on my fingers, but it couldn't be true. I believe our child would have been the most beautiful in the world.

I want to thank you for all the experiences that you have given me. I will always cherish them. I hope our paths cross in the future. Perhaps I'll get a surprise email from you. Maybe I will attempt to send one myself to see how you are doing. I wish you the best in life, because I know you are a good person, and truly deserving of one.

Arrivederci bella signora

Come back to me, to entwine our bodies in passion, once again. I know you are there, lurking, watching, sending secret messages across the line when you see fit. I don't care who you have become. Whoever you are now, our bodies with the same desires, I accept you. Come to me in the night, throw a pebble at my window to wake me, and I will open my doors with my heart to give you everything of me. When I try to speak, you will put your finger on my lips to silence me. The stairs, a gateway to our love. We will relive those moments of passion that we cherished in the past, where we would stare deeply into each other's eyes, while we made love lasciviously. The sun is about to rise, and you leave, like a thief in the night, to take your love away from me once again, I will lay in bewilderment and dread, exhausted, and again, you make me want you even more than before.

In stolen moments, my thoughts would drift to you, but lately, those fleeting memories have become a continuous symphony and I find myself in absolute nostalgia of what we once had. You were the radiant soul who unlocked my heart, you helped open my mind and led me to understand a different type of love. After my last misfortune in romance you offered your warmth, guiding me Westward. My delicate half-Asian enchantress, you were a fire that ignited from the depths of Texas, your drawl a siren's song that left me intoxicated.

A pang of jealousy would stir within me at the sight of your grace, the way others were drawn to your sweet and playful charm. My love for you was all-consuming; I cherished everything about you, from your dainty feet to the sensual mole on your lip.

Our meeting was a magical affair, a night by the ocean where you appeared, an ethereal angel amongst mortals. Excitement and hope blossomed within me, a desperate wish that fate would weave our lives together. And it did, for a cosmic coincidence linked our worlds through a friend, a sibling, with common causes linked by a distance of thousands of miles. Shy and constrained, I found solace in your playful openness that enchanting night.

You taught me to embrace life's luxuries, to open my rigid mind and to journey West and discover new realms within myself. I still recall our extravagant escape to New Yawwk (as you would playfully mock me), at that expensive hotel and the beautiful two shirts that you bought me that were the best I've ever had in my life. I want you to know that I would pay 10 times that amount just to relive one of those nights that we shared together. You taught me how to enjoy life , and you were my Westward journey to the love in my heart.

In the quiet chambers of my heart, I often drift back to our enchanting journey to San Francisco. Do you, too, remember the wind's gentle serenade, dancing through the windows of our hotel, caressing the curtains as we lay entwined in dreams? It seemed as if that wind was whispering love songs into our ears, determined to be an everlasting memory, and indeed it has.

Oh, how the romantic sound of the trolley's bell would greet us each morning, a constant melody to our love, whether we wished to hear it or not. And that one night, my love, when our words tangled in a passionate duel, do you remember how the fire in our eyes turned into a storm of kisses and tender embraces? How quickly and passionately we reconciled, turning what could have been a bitter moment into a cherished memory. It seemed as if the argument was but a prelude to a sweeter connection, making the fight an unforeseen blessing, a gateway to a deeper, more profound love.

We were able to accept each other's flaws, but there was one issue that became our breaking point and fueled many of our arguments. This issue was deeply personal to me, something I had grappled with for most of my life, and it created turmoil between us.

Your mother, a truly wonderful person, was someone I turned to for advice on this matter. She was aware of the problem and advised me to do what was best for myself. Perhaps it was her way of showing tough love, recognizing similar issues in her two children and hoping for a change in them.

I now realize it was wrong for me to give you an ultimatum on this subject, and I should have resisted the pressure from family. On the night that became a symbol of our downfall, after a heated argument, I let pride get in the way of supporting you when you were in trouble. That evening's events, on a cruel cold day in March, I left you to fend for yourself, and for that, I never forgave myself.

You sought me out after our argument, only to find yourself in deeper trouble. The guilt of that incident still lingers with me, and it's a lesson I sadly failed to learn from, as I later allowed something similar to happen to a friend in need, more than a decade later during the month of March.

Oh, the sting of memories from the breakup with the one I loved the most continues to torment me. There's one memory in particular that I wish I could erase: my birthday, when you spotted us together in the restaurant where you were dining alone, no doubt recalling the times we used to spend there. The restaurant we so often frequented together is now gone, and we had already parted ways by then, but the painful memory and guilt of that day will haunt me forever.

How could I have been so thoughtless as to bring another woman to a place where we once shared such cherished memories? You showed incredible strength, sitting there and finishing your meal as if nothing had happened. My heart ached to run to you, to profess my love and beg your forgiveness, but I was weak, and I knew it wouldn't have been right.

I should have kept that place sacred for us. I should have been there to help you overcome your problem. I should have ignored the trivial opinions of others. The weight of those "should haves" bears heavily on my conscience, and I am filled with regret.

And so, our paths have diverged, leaving me to reflect on what feels like a quindecennial waste of time. Your social media page, unchanged for 15 years, remains as a haunting tribute to you. It details your engagement to a musician shortly after our breakup, and then, silence. No updates about a joyous marriage or the birth of children; it stands as a testament to your existence and then a sudden halt.

I often hope that this absence is a sign of your contentment, that you've been too busy with family and a fulfilling life to update the page. But a lingering fear gnaws at me, the fear that something terrible may have happened to you. The thought of hearing about any misfortune fills me with dread, and it would break my heart to learn of such news.

I genuinely wish that you have experienced the best that life has to offer, and I thank you for the precious time we shared. You are truly unforgettable, a woman without a single ill intention, who simply yearned for love. You are the last of the best that I have shared memories with.

I thank you and hold onto the hope that our paths may one day cross again. Please know that the memories we created together will always remain with me, a bittersweet reminder of what once was.

With love, Your East-Coaster