Hello. I love you, let me tell you my name

an open letter to Ricky Martin

Dear Ricky Martin,

Yesterday I was coming home from work and I had a terrible scare.  I realized that the entire day yesterday I did not once hear your toe-tapping, butt-shaking, heart-pounding hit “Livin’ La Vida Loca.”  How could that be possible?  There’s no way that your song could ever stop playing on the radio:  it’s too good.  I think you’re better than Britney Spears and N’Sync in one body.

Oh, and your body!  I’m blushing too much to go any further about that.  I only have two words to say about your body:  “Thank you.”

I don’t want you to think that I am writing this letter as any sort of crazed stalker fan.  On the contrary, I happen to have a boyfriend, and I love him very much.  I don’t love him in a Ricky Martin sort of way (that is only reserved for you, dear Ricky) but I love him in a way that I could never love you.  I hope you’re not too upset.  It’s just that when I talk to him, he talks back, and that makes a deeper sort of love.  (But not like the Ricky Martin kind of love, which I’ve already explained to you….)

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