Only one of these letters was written by me

Dear Lady in Red,

Can you believe that this is my third letter to you and I still do not know your name? I wish that I knew your name. I wish that I was brave enough to ask you, but you scare me. You are too beautiful, despite all your faults.

You need to know that I am not a good looking man. I have never been beautiful but over the stress has become visible on my face and in particular on my eyes, which now seem hollow. I can promise you that they are not empty, because I use them to see you. Even when I close my eyes, I see you.

However, I am worried about us - you have never really paid me any attention (although I do not blame you for this) and you have not replied to my other letters. I wonder if you even feel the same way that I do. Do you care? I feel very much for you. The idea that you do not feel anything for me is very scary.

You know a lot about me. You know that I am unemployed, that I drink and smoke too much, that I am very depressed and have attempted to take my own life. You also know that I keep hamsters and watch Channel Four.

Writing to you makes me feel sane. I hope you do not mind. I hope you never feel the same way as I do - sometimes I cannot even be bothered to go to the toilet until I think how smelly it would be if I didn't. Things have really got that bad.

It is not fair.

I wonder if you would ever want to be seen out with me? I sometimes think about going shopping in Aldi with you, because I know you are not rich either. I have seen you in the Co-Op and I am surprised that you go there because you are not rich either and I cannot afford it in there. Where do you get your money from? Sometimes I wonder.

I don't like to think of you selling yourself. I wouldn't let that happen if you were going out with me.

Well, I do not have much else to say at the moment. I hope to have enough money to come and see you soon. As it is I am stealing paper and stamps from my mother, who is too old to notice. She would not mind anyway, as she wants me to be happy. I do not think I ever will be unless love finds a way.

I do not want to be sentimental. My hamsters can tell when I am upset and they become agitated and restless, and run around all night and keep me awake. What with the hamsters and my mother, sometimes I think I live in a madhouse.

I hope that I will see you soon. You could always write to me. You have my address. It would be nice if you acknowledged me.

Love

Trevor.