My dear Francess…I am really beginning to truly love my last wife-to-be. So please, do not give up on me. If my words make you faint; my dear, this old man would give both of his legs to run away from all this madness and go to where you are. Now, isn’t that funny? My hands long to touch your face and feel how soft your skin is. Those cheeks with roses in them;they are very soft with no flaws. Something which always makes me ponder…why do you love me? I’d give my arms, my belly, my thighs and throw in the curls in my hair, too. Even my eyeglasses. Who to trade with? Who can make you well, always? Bear with my please, like you always do. I stopped saying that I love you a long time ago. But only because you know all that, already. Take care of yourself,please. I don’t want to vacation in Manila to visit a gravestone. I don’t want your family to hate me. I fear the hatred of you God upon me; should it happen that I do vacation there and there will be no you. Only a tomb. Do whatever you want except to hate me. I believe we have a story which idiots and morons can envy. I feel very useless. I can only try harder to cease making you cry. I fret and I worry about your health. Am I very useless? How are you, my very lovely you? How is your cat and your dog? How is your mother? Why do you love me? I feel like an Ebenezar today and can’t write longer. Thoughts.