Love. Letter.

I love you. Words cannot express. You and me are like Gollum and the One Ring; like Richard Hagstrom and the Word Processor of the Gods; like Lion-O and his badass Sword of Omens. Word to LeAnn Rimes, you light up my life. How do I live without you?

We first met in August of oh-seven. You were under glass, within a white box that hid your ice-blue revelation of beauty. From the moment I held you in my hands and caressed you, I knew we were meant to be together.

Honey, I don't tell you this often enough: I've never stopped loving you. My passion might wane from time to time, I may neglect you for a few months...but I'll always make it up to you. Always.

We share so many great memories together. You made me love again. You were with me when I killed Dracula. When I toppled the despotic reign of a fucked-up dragon-turtle thing. When I discovered that math can be fun if it involves puzzles that reveal pictures of animals and shit. When I stopped the oppressive annexation of our planet by alien overlords. When, disguised as a flaxen-haired youth, I picked up sword and shield to rid the world of darkness. When I became the fastest plumber alive.

Baby, can you dig your man? He's a righteous man. So, too, are you a righteous bitch. I mean that in the most complimentary way, trust me. Because you make me the man I am today. Word to Amber Waves, you are a mother to all who need you. To me, you're a bacon tongue kiss mixed with sauteed mushrooms and blowjob. (You bring out my inner poet, too.)

Relationships are built on many things, the biggest of which is communication. Sugar, no matter how long we're apart, no matter how long I leave you sitting alone on my shelf -- or under my bed, or on top of my microwave -- you're never out of my thoughts. Not even for a minute. The true measure of a relationship is union; and we go together like a subject and a predicate make up a sentence. With you in my life, my days are Friday nights and Saturday mornings. Perpetually.

Thank you.

Does that sound weird? Whatever, I mean it. Because you never let me down.

You wear dresses. The one you're wearing right now, Order of Ecclesia by Armani, shows off your legs, your chest, your hair. Your hair. God, your hair.

We've had a rough patch, Sweetheart, and we probably will again. But regardless of the hardships we may face, I'll always return to you. I am your boomerang. Bet.

Dracula's back. Oh, so you've heard. Ain't nothing to it but to do it, then. Hop on, Angel. We ride, or we die.

Don't fear the reaper. Baby, take my hand.

Bonnie and Clyde. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Salt and pepper. Salt-N-Pepa. Push it real good.

Legendary.

They may make them newer. They may make them sleeker. But they sure as hell don't make them like you.

They never will.

Not ever.