A letter to you

dear chesterfield sofa,

it's long over due that i write this letter to you. as late you've been on my mind and this is my only outlet by which we can communicate.

i first saw you a year or so ago and i must say i was smitten at first sight. i stalked you off and on when i'd deliver paintings and whilst attending an event, even sat on your very self.  you already know, i am sure, how comfortable you are.

then suddenly, you were gone. i looked everywhere, quietly as any good couch stalker would do, but alas you were nowhere to be found. i had to inquire, and found that you'd been put away in storage. humiliating for you, i am sure, but it made me happy, knowing that you were no longer available for others..
you see, we are meant for each other.

but then i saw your listing on first dibs. knowing that others would see your appeal and be attracted to your vibe, i knew that it was time to reach out to you. through the universe as it were.

we're both from the 60's, so we've both got patina. your's is described as "great", i'd say mine is closer to "all that sun exposure in the eighties is showing a bit". i've looked you over and contrary to what your online description says, your condition is a little closer to "a bit time worn" rather than "very good" as described.

 i lived through the 80's as well.  stuff happened, we all got carried away.  that's all i'm going to say.

no offense intended, but if we're to have the relationship that i know we will (in which you move in with me: i hope i am not being too forward?) you must know that i accept you as you are, you slightly funky, bohemian glam hunk of leather and studs, you.

you'll be happy at my house, with me. I promise. spending the day surrounded by other retro-y furnishings will make you happy. you'll feel young again. really. is this why i am attracted to furnishings of the sixties?

i digress.

so chester, if i might be so bold, come live with me in my big little house. 

we will be so happy.

together.

love,

K