Lovely.

'The Phantom is a bit odd-looking, and a musical genius - not unlike Andrew Lloyd Webber,' I thought, feeling very profound. As the movie climaxed, tears started rolling down my cheeks to accompany my loud wailing. "Why didn't you [choke] marry the Phantom? [gag, sob] He's a genius, and [wail, whine] that Raoul guy has flicky, poncey hair and looks funny and, well, he ISN'T a genius."

I rubbed my hand across my tears-and-snot face and thought, 'Hello, hormones. Back again so soon?'

'Yes,' replied my hormones. 'Welcome to HELL. Muahahahaaaa.'

That afternoon, a man came to the door, wielding (yes, wielding) a large bunch of flowers. I opened the door, and he said my name, questioningly.

'What? I don't even know this guy. He's bought me flowers? I should ask his name. I wonder if he'll ask me to dinner...'

'These are for you,' he said, thrusting them towards me, and scuttling back towards his delivery van.

Oh.

Oh! Flowers! Delivered! I pulled off the card.

I wanted to buy you flowers, and didn't see why 10 000 miles should stop me...

Lovely lovely lovely lovely lovely J. is lovely.

Lovely.