/lit/ - Literature

What is the hardest part of writing a novel for you?

Dear Taylor,

I think you are the love of my life. At least two years have passed since we first met. I remember the first time I saw you I was awestruck. I found you stunningly attractive with your blonde hair, green eyes, and petite figure. I became nervous because you were approaching my register. Then you asked to see the manager because you had an interview. I became excited at the prospect of you working here.
When you started working and we got to know each other, I felt a strong attraction towards you, and I think that attraction was reciprocal. Do you remember when you started working here that one day you stayed after your shift had ended to help me clean a theater? We got to know each other a little better. I asked you about some of your favorite movies and you told me you loved David Lynch's Mullholland Drive. I think I also talked to you about how I loved Italian neo-realist cinema. I can't help but wonder why you stayed after to clean a theater with me. I'd like to think it was because you felt the attraction too.
After that day I always eagerly checked the schedule to see when we would work together. I looked forward to those days the most. I couldn't wait to spend some time talking to you and getting to know you more. Sometimes I wondered if you were happy here. It seemed like you missed your friends in your hometown and your job in your hometown. I remember the way you described driving around with your friends just cruising, the windows down, the breeze, music in the background, and aimlessly heading nowhere. It made me wish I had something like that or that we could do it together.
I also looked forward to the nights we closed together. I always hopes you would ask me to drive you home. Maybe I should've offered, but I feared that would've been too forward of a gesture. I think normally the manager or Jeremy drove you home. But I always wonder what would've happened if it was me who drove you home. Especially on the last night we worked together when we both knew it would be our last time seeing each other. I remember that night you jumped on a box to flatten it and fell down. It was funny but I was worried for a second that you might have hurt yourself. But I remember your goodbye most of all that night. As I left you jumped out of your seat and shouted good bye at me across the room, wishing me luck in Ohio. That goodbye was painful for me because I think we both knew it was the last time we would see each other and everything felt like one big missed opportunity.
I remember one time I came in to see a movie on an off day when you were there. I always tried to see movies at times you were working in the hope I could chat with you as I got my ticket or talk to you after the movie. But I remember this one time as I left the theater I watched you I headed towards the door. You were mopping the lobby. I couldn't take my eye off of you because I was and am so enamoured with you.