Dear Joaquin

I first saw you wearing a skirt in Gladiator, and I might as well come right out and tell you that it wasn’t Russell who tickled my fancy. It was you. Thanks to you, I climbed into bed with a devilish smile, much to my boyfriend’s bemusement. You can imagine my disappointment in the morning… The fantasy machine was running full speed. Yes, Joaquin. Before you, there were no wet dreams to liven up my nights. Rien. Nada.

I like your mysterious air. Your malicious gaze, almost hypnotic. Your shy smile, and at the same time, that sulky look that drives me wild. An undefinable something that those who have experienced the unthinkable possess.

I won’t beat around the bush, Joaquin. I’ve been following your multiple lives on the big screen for years. I’ve found myself wanting to throw myself into your arms, kiss you, slap you, turn my back on you, and finally run after you and take your hand in mine. So exciting!

It’s high time you knew a little more about me. We’re not getting any younger, and I want my fairy tale too.

I am a woman, and courtesy demands that you not ask my age. But I’ll give you a hint: My ovaries are no longer under warranty.

I could cook us some vegetables with herbs and spices, and we could enjoy them with a bottle of good wine, naked in front of the fireplace on a bearskin rug. No, wait, no bearskin rug. I’m an animal lover. Just like you.

I’m a bit wild. No society life for me—I’d rather take a walk in the forest, hug a tree, caress the stones, talk to the birds. I have a feeling you’d like it.

My chakras are balanced, and I’d love to harmonize them with yours. I’m an uncomplicated woman, passionate, exciting, with a quirky sense of humor… Yes, you’d like it.

I don’t need much. A little smile, a broad shoulder, and my nipples press against my blouse.

Intrigued? Interested? I wouldn’t object to having a drink with you, either in Paris or Chicago. (I’ll explain later.) Ah, and lest I neglect to mention it, I’m French. Not unlike other French women, I appreciate discretion, but I like to be noticed. I accept compliments with a shy smile. But one thing I can’t stand is a lack of support. I don’t sulk; I pout. I don’t eat; I dine. I never get drunk; I get tipsy.

Until soon, I hope.

Yours truly,

Audrey