Dear Nick Carter (@nickcarter),
Helloooo! How are you, buddy? Oh well, hoping that your carreer is on top right now. I was your biggest fan when I was a kid. I think you were my first love. Ehm! I fell in love with you when I saw you in the video, “As Long As You Love Me”. OH MY GOD! That blonde hair was so cute, I wanted to color my hair blonde too. You sang and you danced. You smiled as if you smiled at me. The cutest smile ever. I sat in front of the TV hoping that I’d meet you someday and we had the chance to go on a date.
Everyday, I listened to all your songs. I told my friends that my name is Naomi Carter, your future wife. I even wrote a story about us as a couple. I made my sister read it everyday. She probably thought her sister was already insane. But, hey, I fell in love with you, Nick. There was no single day that I didn’t dream of you. I imagined that I won some lotery to US and suddenly we met. We fell in love in the first sight and kissed right away. You would bend on your knees and proposed me. Oh well, a dream was just a dream.
When you came to Indonesia and had a concert here with Backstreet Boys. I was dissapointed because I couldn’t come. My parents didn’t let me to go there. I cried out loud like tommorow would be the end of the day. But that was true, Nick. Without you, tommorow was nothing. So, I went to school with blurry eyes. My eyes were like Panda. I was so sad. It was supposed the day where magic happened for us, where our eyes finally met each other and we fell in love. Oh how come my parents didn’t know that universe wanted me to be Mrs Carter? That their son in law was finally came to meet his destiny. My parents screwed our love story, Nick.
Days went on, you seemed dissapear and I grew up. I met real boys and you met Paris Hilton. Why, Nick? Why Paris? She seemed…ummm…cheap. I was worth it more than her, Nick. Yeah, I wasn’t skinny at all and my hair wasn’t blonde. But I guess, you like tanned skin girl, right? I am exotic. (Uhuuuuy!). You just haven’t met me yet, Nick.
Oh well, this letter is maybe 10 years late. But Nick, your future wife is here. You might want to fly here, forget all those chicks over there, and propose me. C’mon, my age is mature enough to be your wife. You won’t regret that, Nick. Well, don’t say I’m crazy, because like people say, first love never dies, right?
Nah, Nick, would you marry me, so I wouldn’t waste my time dreaming of you again?
Your (future) wife,
(My name suits your last name perfectly)