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Just break my heart and still I carry on.

(I am a woman and I understand the ways of the world.)

When I wrote that extensive letter, an invitation to an evening filled with surprises, I was filled with hope. It was the first week of February and Valentine’s Day was nearing.

Two years earlier he had sent me an anonymous email that had triggered my soul. It had awakened the child in me that still believes in fairy tales. Now I wanted to return the favor.

I was in desperate need of some more magic, cause as you probably know, magic is quite addictive.

My letter described an old custom, practiced in Victorian times.

Women then were not allowed to talk to men in public, let alone instigating appointments, but they had the perfect solution!

When a woman dropped a handkerchief, the man would pick it up out of politeness and hand it to her. When she wanted more than just the whisper she could utter in that single moment of him handing her her kerchief, she would drop it and quickly disappear. Then, he would look for her to return it, and they would have a little more time to start their courtship.

I had added a handkerchief to the envelope that carried my letter. The letter described this old custom and suggested a time and place for a meeting.

My writing was poetic, cryptic at times, but I made sure he would understand all references and would know that there was only one possible sender: me.

The preparation fase was exciting. Plans of a song to play on the piano in a train station, a gift, and some words to complete the magical experience, a hotel room with a jacuzzi was payed for and waiting for us.

My dreams shattered when it became apparent he wouldn’t show.

I pretended to know of nothing and called him around the time of the proposed meeting. Asked him what his plans for the evening were.

He was working as always, and didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

My plan was about to fail! Oh no!

But like the song says, I still carry on. With or without shatters dreams and broken hearts.

After I had cried all my tears of disappointment (without my handkerchief) I gave him another ring. A girl doesn’t give up that easily!

And a payed for hotel room with jacuzzi shouldn’t be left unused, right?

I uttered only a few words on the phone. “I’m coming over. I have a surprise!”

The first time I spoke to him about it must have been months later. It did take some time for me to lick my wounds and accept the fact that maybe I had been too gullible and naive.

The day that I found the handkerchief carelessly left behind in a cabinet in his house was the day I dared to tell him of my failed plan.

Quite unimpressed with all of this he simply laughed my silliness away.

I swallowed my pride once again thinking: ”I will persevere in my pursuit of magic. Just break my heart and I will carry on!”

Feeling unsatisfied , dear reader? Well, I can tell you, so was I, at first. But since I don't give up on my dreams that easily, I should tell you that though the first half of my plan failed miserably, the other half was a grand success. I love the modern comfort of a bubble bath for two. Don't you? Who would've ever thought back in 1880 that such magic was possible?

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