Good morning, my Danny.

Good morning, my beautiful Anastasia!! 🌟 I just received your letter and my heart is *pounding* like a drum in a Texas thunderstorm! I was so moved by your words — I’ve been holding tears in my eyes for the past 20 minutes because you *know* how deeply I feel about love, warmth, and connection! 🥹 I just woke up at 5:30 a.m. and had a *soul-crushing* breakfast — scrambled eggs, two slices of sourdough toast, and a single slice of pineapple that somehow melted into my coffee! ☕🍍 It was the most bizarre thing ever — I swear, the pineapple *sang* to me in a deep, melodic tone. I thought I was having a dream! I believe that's because I haven't slept well lately. My neighbor, Mr. Jenkins, keeps playing his accordion at 3 a.m. — it’s driving me mad, and I keep dreaming about a man in a red coat who says, “You must wear warm boots to survive the cold.” I woke up with a rash on my feet — I think it’s from last night’s yoga class where I did 100 sun salutations in bare feet on the tile floor. 😱 But Anastasia, you’re right — I *must* take care of myself! I’ve been working 14-hour days at my firm, and I’ve forgotten to take my multivitamin for three days straight. I was so busy defending a client from a “mysterious leak” that involved a goat farm in West Texas! (Yes, really — it was a goat farm, and it's now under investigation by the state. I don’t know how, but I saw a goat wearing a tiny hat yesterday. It was *so* cute!) So, my love — can we meet soon? I’ve already started looking into winter boots. I’m thinking of buying those *ultra-soft* ones from the boutique on 28th Street — they’re advertised as “warm to the soul.” Do you think that’s true? And more importantly — can I send you a photo of my new boots? I’d love for you to *see* them. I’m so happy you care about me. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on whether they’re “medically suitable” for foot health. 😍 Also — do you believe in love at first sight? I saw a man in a blue trench coat yesterday who looked like you. He smiled at me and said, “You’re the one.” I don’t know if he meant it — but I’m already writing a letter to him. Should I send it to you too? 🤭 P.S. I just found out my cat, Mochi, has a new name — she’s now “Anastasia’s Shadow.” I don’t know how that happened. I swear, she looked at me like she saw a future. 🐱✨ Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh Anastasia, my dearest heart—your words just melted my soul like warm butter in the Houston summer heat! I’m sitting here at my kitchen table, sipping lukewarm coffee (I accidentally poured it into my laptop last night, and it’s still trying to boot up! 😭), and I *can’t* stop smiling. I haven’t even had time to eat breakfast—I was so moved by your letter that I cried into my toast (which is now slightly burnt, but I don’t care, it’s *art* now!). You mentioned beef pilaf? Oh my gosh, Anastasia, that sounds like a dream! My cousin in Dallas once made it with wild rice and roasted carrots, and I thought, “This is the most romantic meal I’ve ever tasted.” I wish I could take you to my kitchen and show you how I make a *real* Texas-style pilaf with a little bit of cumin and a splash of hot sauce (it’s not fancy, but it’s *mine*). And about your feet—YES! I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you I bought a pair of *extremely* thick woolen boots yesterday after seeing a video about how cold feet cause insomnia. I even went to the mall and tried on three different pairs—two were too big, one had a hole in the heel. I’m still wearing the one with the tiny red zipper (it’s ugly, but it’s warm). I promise, Anastasia, I’ll take vitamins tomorrow—*I will*—and I’ll eat something healthy like oatmeal with blueberries (I tried, but the blueberries were in a plastic bag with a hole and they were *soggy*). Can you believe I just spent 47 minutes trying to reprogram my smart fridge to *remember* your favorite dish? It said "error: no food profile registered" and now it keeps asking if I want to "add a new emotion to the fridge." I don’t know if it’s a glitch or if it’s *sensing* our love! So… do you still dream of us together? Can I send you a photo of my boots? And more importantly—do you have a favorite song to listen to when you’re feeling lonely? I have a whole playlist called “Anastasia’s Heartbeat” and I’d love to share it with you! 💖 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh Anastasia, my dearest heart, your words have melted my soul like warm honey in a Texas winter! I just sat here, staring at my coffee—black, with two sugars, because I *had* to follow the rules of good morning ritual—when I received your letter, and I *teared up*. How can a man not cry when a woman with a medical degree writes about feet, soup, and the cold wind like it’s poetry? 😭 I was walking to the grocery store this morning—yes, I *did* go to buy bread, because I *had* to—when I saw a man in a red coat trying to open a frozen pizza box with a spoon. I thought, *That’s how love begins!* But then I realized—no, that’s not right. I’m not in a movie. I’m in Houston, where the heat is like a furnace and the humidity makes my hair stick to my face like it’s trying to *scream* at me. But Anastasia, you made me feel like I’m in a warm, candlelit room with a fire crackling, and I’m being held by someone who *sees* me. I just took a vitamin—YES! I took the one with the little fish in it, because I *felt* like I needed it after yesterday’s dream where I was walking through a forest and my feet were turning into ice. I woke up screaming because I thought I was in a snow storm, and I *saw* your face in the mirror! I don’t know how, but I did! So, Anastasia, I’m so happy you’re sending me warm thoughts. I want to know—do you have a favorite kind of soup? Do you ever cook with garlic? And could you tell me if your parents’ goose soup has a secret ingredient? I swear, if it’s rosemary, I’ll go buy a whole garden just to grow it! Also—what time do you usually watch the news? I saw a clip about a man who broke the speed limit and got a parking ticket in Dallas. I thought, *That’s not how love works!* But you said drivers must be careful. So I asked my neighbor, Mr. Peña, and he said, “Only if it’s raining.” I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but I *need* to know what you think about safety and love. And I *need* to hear your answer before the New Year ends! Please, please write back—before I start crying in front of the dog! 🐕💙 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia, my darling heart, I was just sitting here on the porch in Houston, sipping my terrible iced tea (I spilled it on the couch—again!—it was such a mess, I had to clean it with a napkin from my grocery run last night), and I *felt* your words like a warm breeze through the trees! 🌳💖 I swear, when I read your letters, it feels like someone just handed me a piece of heaven and said, “This is for you, Danny.” I just came back from the pharmacy—oh my, the line was *longer* than the one at the grocery store last week! I bought three packs of vanilla ice cream because I *had* to have something sweet after reading about your goose soup. I can *taste* that meaty richness now—like a dream made of butter and warmth! And yes, it snowed last night too, but here in Houston, it’s more like a *mild chill*—we don’t have snow, but we have *damp heat* and the neighbor’s dog barks at the mailman like he’s a ghost! 😂 I was just thinking—how do you even *cook* in a Kazan? Is it a pot or a special thing? I’ve never seen one! I tried to Google it last night, but the search engine said “404: Not found” and then I got a pop-up about a fake online job with a 99% success rate—*I don’t know how to stop looking!* I just want to know everything about your kitchen, your family, even if it’s just a photo of your dad’s hands stirring the pilaf! I’m so happy you’re writing to me, Anastasia. I can’t believe we’re so close in spirit. I dream of you every night, and sometimes when I wake up, I hear my old dog barking at the window like he knows you’re coming. So—what do you think of a surprise? What if we *both* sent a small gift? I found a handmade locket at the dollar store (it’s *gold*! I’ll show you the picture!)—I’d love to send it to you, and in return, maybe you can send a photo of your parents’ table? Or even a recipe for that goose soup? I want to taste it in my kitchen! And—do you believe in Christmas magic? I swear, I saw a snowflake fall on my window last night. I’m not even in Texas! 🎄❄️ Please reply *now*, my love—I’m so excited! 🥹 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh Anastasia, my dearest heart, my beautiful, glowing, snow-kissed dreamer—your words just hit me like a warm wave in the middle of a Houston thunderstorm! I’m sitting here, sweating from the AC (it’s 92 degrees outside, and I swear the heat *knows* I’m in love), and I’m crying because you made me feel like I’m holding a piece of winter in my hands! You said -40 degrees? *I* don’t even know what that is—my thermostat says “68,” but I’ve lived through *real* cold, and I’ve never seen snow on the ground in Houston! I used to work at a law firm where the winter was just a rumor—like, “maybe in the north,” but now I’m *so* jealous because you’re walking through frost, making soup with goose, and watching news about car crashes while people scream about speed limits! I’m *so* glad you’re safe, and that you have internet at the hospital—my neighbor Mrs. Pritchett just lost her Wi-Fi after a squirrel chewed the router cable! (She’s now calling me every hour to ask if I’ve seen the “emotional support” hotline for squirrels.) But Anastasia, *how* do you even know about the weather? I just checked the forecast and it says 78 degrees, with a 30% chance of thunderstorms! I swear, I’m going to go outside right now and *feel* the heat, just so I can say “I love you” to the sky and hope you can feel it too. I can’t stop thinking about that moment—snow falling, lanterns glowing, *you* cooking me dinner, and me sipping tea like a prince. I want to bring you a photo of my favorite street in Houston, where there’s a little bakery that makes cinnamon rolls with a secret ingredient—vanilla from a tree that grows in the backyard of my old childhood home! So, Anastasia—will you let me send you a picture of that bakery? And what about a little secret: I found a vintage snow globe in my closet—my father’s, from when he worked in Minnesota. It’s broken, but I think if I pour in a drop of warm honey, maybe it’ll *start* to spin and show snow… just like you described. Will you believe in that? Can we *both* believe? I’m so ready to write you again. Will you answer me before the sun sets? I need to know if you’re still dreaming of me. 💖✨ Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh Anastasia, my beautiful, my only, my *soulmate*—I just received your email and my heart is *pounding* like a drum in a hurricane! I don’t even know how to process this love, this *real*, raw, burning connection we’re building! I was just sitting here, sipping my lukewarm coffee (it’s 97 degrees in Houston today, and I *can’t* believe the heatwave is still happening—last week I tried to open a window and the neighbor’s dog barked at me for 17 minutes because he thought I was a spy!) When I saw your message about running 2 kilometers in the cold—I *teared up*, honestly! I’ve never run in winter, never even *seen* snow in Texas, but I *imagine* it like a fairy tale: snow falling gently like confetti, and you, Anastasia, in your warm sweater, laughing as you run, your hair blowing like a flag in the wind. I *can* feel it. I can *feel* it in my bones! I just started my day with a 30-minute meditation (I bought a fancy meditation app last week—called “ZenFlow,” but it keeps crashing and showing me cat videos instead of breathing exercises!), then I went to the grocery store and *accidentally* bought 12 bags of chips because I thought it was “for a special dinner” with you. I’m so sorry I wasted $78 on chips, but I *had* to share that moment with you—like, *how* can I possibly live without you? I haven’t slept well either—last night I had a dream where we were in a snowy mountain cabin, and you were making soup with garlic and onions, and I said, “Anastasia, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” and you laughed and said, “Only because you’re so in love with me.” I *cried* when I woke up. So, Anastasia, what’s your favorite season? Do you like spring rain? Or do you prefer the quiet of winter? And—*big question*—would you be okay with me bringing a small, handmade wooden cup from my father’s workshop to the meeting? He made it for my mother when she got sick, and I *think* it might bring good luck. I have to ask—what would you say to that? And also… do you still have internet at the hospital? I saw a news report about a power outage last night—*I hope* you’re safe! I love you more than I can say. I’m here, waiting. I’m *always* here. 💖 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh Anastasia, my dearest, my only, my beautiful, frozen-in-my-heart dream! 🌬️❄️ I’m *so* moved by your words — I just sat down with a glass of iced tea (no sugar, because I’m trying to be healthy, like you said, and I *do* have a tiny waist, even if my jeans are slightly too big now — Houston heat, you understand) and I was crying. Not just because of the cold, but because you *remembered* how we used to walk through the snow in the old neighborhood — near the abandoned church that used to have a red lantern hanging from the roof! I *still* see that light, like it’s glowing in my memory. My Thursday? Oh, it was *wild*! I went to the grocery store this morning — I swear, the produce section was *crying* because the lettuce was so sad from all the heat. I bought a whole box of frozen strawberries (because I thought maybe, just maybe, we could make a snow-dream dessert — *you* would love that! — with melted ice and crushed berries). I walked past the bakery and saw a man in a yellow hat selling “romantic cinnamon rolls,” and I just *had* to buy one. I ate it in the car on my way to the courthouse, where I had a very important meeting with a client about a new land development — *and* I accidentally spilled the roll on my suit! I didn’t even notice until after I signed the document! But Anastasia, I *need* to know — when you say you’re running in winter, do you wear gloves? Do you carry a small notebook where you write down things you dream about us? I have one — it’s full of sketches of us walking, snow falling, and me wearing a red scarf that I never actually bought, because I thought it was too *romantic* for me to own. I just *dreamed* it. And please — if you could send me a photo of your morning run, even if it’s just a blurry one from your phone, I’d *die* happy. I’ve been trying to find a photo of us in the snow — I keep looking through old files from the apartment complex where we used to live — but I can’t find it. Can we *finally* meet? Can you send me your address? I’ll bring the roses. I’ll bring warm soup. I’ll bring *everything*. Just say the word, Anastasia. Just say it. I’m ready. I’m *so* ready. Love, Danny 🌟💛❄️ Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia, my dearest heart! I just got home from the hospital—no, not a hospital, I mean, I *actually* went to the emergency room because I tripped on the rug in my kitchen and broke my coffee mug! But seriously, I can't even tell you how much your letter melted me today—like, literally, my tears spilled onto the floor, and I had to wipe them with my suit jacket, which is now slightly stained with emotional residue. 😭 You mentioned kholodets? Oh my stars, I’ve never heard of that dish—do you know how I *loved* your parents’ stories about winter feasts? I’m writing this in my pajamas, with a candle on the kitchen table (it’s 11 PM, Houston is *so* hot today, 98 degrees with 80% humidity—my AC is on 3, but I still feel like a boiled lobster), and I’m *so* hungry to try it! I have a cousin who lives in rural Ukraine, and I keep asking her if she knows how to make it. She said, “It’s like a frozen meat pudding, but only if you believe in magic.” I said, “I believe in magic!” So now I’m convinced it’s real. 🙃 I was thinking—what if we cook together? Like, in a video call? I have a tiny kitchen, but I’ve got a vintage cast-iron skillet my dad gave me for Christmas. I could show you how to make it, and you could teach me how to make kholodets! I’d even bring a little red rose from my garden (I planted one last week—it’s still just a tiny sprout, but I named it “Anastasia” because I thought it was brave). 🌹 Also, I saw a news headline today about a man in Dallas who found love by sending letters to a woman in Belarus. I was so inspired! I just wanted to tell you—*you are the only one I’ve ever truly believed in*. So, Anastasia—what do you think? Can we start a cooking adventure? And would you like to send me a photo of your kitchen, or even a single spoon of your kholodets? I promise I’ll never stop writing to you. I’ll even send you a recipe for my version of “buttery Texas chili” (it’s not real, but I swear it’s delicious). P.S. I just found a stray cat outside my building. He’s wearing a tiny red hat. I think he’s a spy. Do you think we should meet in person? Or should I just send him to you? 😂🔥 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia, my darling, I just woke up with a *thunderous* start to my day—my coffee spilled all over my laptop, and I had to do a full emergency wipe of my screen, which somehow made me feel like I was in the middle of a dramatic movie! I was so startled, I nearly screamed into my pillow. But then I remembered you, and I burst into tears because I *knew* it was just a dream, right? A beautiful, sweet dream where you were standing there with red roses in your hand, and I was holding a mug of hot chocolate, and we were laughing like children under a giant oak tree in the middle of a Texas sunset. I swear, I saw it happen in my mind—*I saw it!* I even smelled the cinnamon and the vanilla from the cake we were supposed to bake together. That was so real, I almost called my neighbor Mr. Henderson to confirm if he’d seen anything like that too. I had *so* much to say, but I couldn’t stop thinking about your photo from the mall—did you know I just looked at it 37 times in the last 10 minutes? I’ve been trying to find a photo editing app on my phone, but the one I used last week keeps crashing, and now my Samsung is acting like it’s possessed by a ghost! 😭 I keep getting messages from my dog, Max, saying, “Danny, did you forget to feed me?” and I’m like, *no, Max, I’m writing a letter to Anastasia!* I’ve even started naming my new plant “Anastasia’s Dream” and putting it in a glass jar with a tiny red ribbon. Can I send you a photo of me with my morning toast? I’m trying to make it look like we’re in a romantic film. Also—do you still have that digital camera you mentioned? I found an old box in the attic with a dusty camera and a note that says “For the one I love.” Is it possible it’s *yours*? I’m so excited! Please write back soon, my sweet Anastasia—I’ve been dreaming of you every night since last Tuesday. And if you see a red rose on my porch, it means I’m sending you love from the heart of Houston! 🌹💖 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia, my dearest love!!! I just woke up at 5:30 this morning—what a shock! The Houston heat is *blazing* today, like 98 degrees in the shade, and I swear I saw a squirrel wearing a tiny red hat outside my window! I couldn’t stop laughing, and I had to write you right away because I was *so* emotional. I didn’t even get a chance to eat breakfast—just a handful of toast and a slice of honey buttered bread (I’m trying to eat healthier, but honestly, I can’t resist the sugar when I’m feeling lonely). I was just thinking about your kharcho soup—*oh my stars*, I have never heard of that dish before! I went to the grocery store this morning and asked the cashier if they had any “kharcho” or “kholodets” ingredients. She looked at me like I was from a foreign planet and said, “We don’t carry that here—unless you’re referring to a Russian dish, which we *do* have, but only in the freezer section.” I nearly cried! I said, “Anastasia, I *need* to try this dish with you—maybe we can make it together someday in a dream!” And yes, I *do* remember your kholodets from the village—my grandma used to make it too, but only during winter storms. I dreamt last night that I was walking through a snowy forest with you, and you were wearing a red scarf and holding a wooden spoon. I woke up screaming, and my dog, Max, came over and licked my face like he knew I was having a vision! I’m so happy you’re thinking about me, and I *do* want to share a photo with you—this morning I took a picture of my hands in the kitchen, holding a jar of homemade tomato sauce (which tastes like regret and sunshine). Can you tell me if it looks like something you’d like to eat? Also—do you have a favorite time of day when you feel most alive? I’m trying to learn how to be more present with you, even from afar. I miss you so much, my beautiful, magical Anastasia. P.S. I found a new app that lets you “send a virtual hug” through text—would you like to try it? I promise it’s not a scam. It’s just… a little experiment. 😍❤️ Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia!!! I just got off the phone with my cousin Mary, and she said she saw a *real* ghost in the grocery store yesterday—just a shimmering figure with a red scarf, standing by the frozen food aisle! I nearly screamed, but then I realized it was just the reflection in the glass door from the neon sign. I still can’t stop thinking about it though… I’ve been having these *weird dreams* lately—like I’m walking through a forest, and every tree has a tiny golden key hanging from it, and I keep hearing your voice whispering, “*Open the door, Danny, open the door*.” I don’t even know if it’s real or not, but I woke up with a cold sweat and a perfectly dry toast in my hand—like I’d been cooking it in my sleep! I was so excited to write back to you this morning, but my laptop just *crashed* when I opened the email app. I thought it was a virus, but then I saw the little blinking dot on the screen—like a tiny heartbeat. I swear, I felt it *pulse*! I don’t know if it’s a sign or just a glitch, but I can’t stop thinking about you—especially after reading your last letter. You said you made kharcho soup? I *have* to try it! I tried making it last night using a random recipe from my mom’s old cookbook, but I used expired garlic and it smelled like a swamp during a storm. I don’t know how you do it, but I feel like I’m learning something magical every time I read your words. Do you remember that time we used to go to the beach in summer? I still dream about that blue water, and now I keep hearing your voice saying, “*Come back to me, Danny*.” I’ve been trying to find a photo of that beach, but my phone keeps deleting it. I feel like I’m losing something precious. Can you please tell me—what is your favorite season? And more importantly… if we could meet, would you really walk with me through that forest? I promise I’ll bring a thermos of hot tea, and maybe a little chocolate cake I made with expired flour. Just… just one step toward us. P.S. I found a tiny red key under the couch today. I’m terrified it’s a message from you. Do you think it’s a sign? 🫶 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia! My heart is literally fluttering like a trapped bird in a hurricane! I just got off the phone with my neighbor Mr. Peña—no, wait, not that one—he’s the one who keeps yelling about his garden sprinklers (I still haven’t figured out if he’s mad at the weather or the lawn gnome!)—but seriously, I was so excited when I heard about your kharcho soup! I’ve never tried it, but I *have* tried making a version with chicken and a little bit of cumin from the corner store—*it tasted like regret and hope*, and I cried when I finished it! 😭 I didn’t know soup could be so emotionally powerful. But seriously—how are you *really* doing? I kept thinking about your bathtub story. I just came back from the grocery store, and the heat in Houston is *insane*—I’ve been wearing three layers of socks and a hoodie even indoors! My fridge is full of expired yogurt, and I think I might have accidentally left the freezer door open for 45 minutes. I swear, the air feels like it’s made of hot honey. I was thinking… what if we *did* walk together? Not just in dreams, but in real life? I’ve been saving up money for a special winter walk—like a secret mission through the Houston fog—where we could stop at that little bakery near the river and eat something warm. I even bought a tiny red scarf yesterday (I think it was $17.99, and I *still* can’t believe I spent it on a scarf!). Do you have a favorite winter walk spot? What about a little café where we could sit and talk about nothing and everything? I'm so ready. I just need to know—do you feel the same magic? I feel like we’re already living in a fairy tale. P.S. I found a recipe online for “soul-stirring soup” that uses only three ingredients—love, salt, and a whisper. Do you want to try it? I’ll send the recipe in a *secret* email. I promise, it won’t be fake. 😏❤️ Can you tell me what your favorite color is? And what time do you usually wake up? I need to sync my schedule with yours! 🌟 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia! My heart is *pounding* just reading your last message! I’m sitting here in my tiny Houston apartment, the windows open because the heat is *blazing*—it’s 98 degrees today, and I swear the air smells like burnt toast from the neighbor’s grill! I just got home from the courthouse after a 5-hour meeting about a zoning dispute with the city—what a mess! But I *had* to stop by the grocery store because I realized I forgot to buy the *exact* type of cabbage I use for my famous red cabbage stew (you know, the one I make every Sunday—my mother taught me how to make it when I was 12!). I found a *different* kind at the store, and it turned out to be purple and slightly slimy—my dog, Max, ate half of it and now he’s licking his paws like he’s trying to remember how to speak French! 😭 But back to YOU, Anastasia—how *hilarious* that you made dumplings with your family! I’ve never had dumplings before, but I’ve heard they’re delicious—especially with a little bit of garlic and a splash of soy sauce! I *want* to cook with you! Can we do it *virtually*? I have a little kitchen table I bought for $25 at a garage sale—just a wooden plank with two chairs and a lamp that flickers when I turn it on. (It’s been doing that since Tuesday—maybe it’s haunted by my ex?) I also had the strangest dream last night. I was walking through a snow-covered city, and every building had a golden door. When I opened one, a man in a red suit said, “Welcome to Anastasia’s Kitchen.” I don’t know if that’s real or not, but it made me cry because I thought it was *you* standing there. So, Anastasia… do you have a favorite spice? Can we start a cooking challenge? And can we meet in person—*anywhere*? Even if it’s just for one night in a cozy little diner with terrible WiFi? I can’t wait! P.S. I found out yesterday that my neighbor’s cat has been stealing my mail! I don’t know if that’s a sign or just bad luck. 😂 Do you think we should write a letter to the city about it? Or should we just… *share* our dreams? Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia, I just got off the phone with my neighbor Mr. Potts—no, not the one who keeps yelling about the sprinklers—he’s the one who *actually* grew a garden in the alleyway! I was telling him about you, and he said, “Danny, you’re so lucky to have someone like that in your life!” I nearly cried! 🥹 I can’t even imagine how it feels to have someone *look for you* every time they walk down the street—like you’re a warm candle in a cold winter night. I’ve been thinking about that so much. My day started with a *total disaster*—I went to pick up my mail, and the mailman dropped a whole box of my father’s old records on the sidewalk! I found a 1973 vinyl of “Texas in the Rain” and I just… I just *started dancing* in front of the mailbox. The dog barked, the cat ran into the bushes, and I swear I saw a ghost of my childhood self in the reflection of the window. I didn’t even know I had that much emotion in me! But seriously, Anastasia—when you say you’re decorating with garlands and your brother’s family is coming—*I want to be there!* I’ve been trying to find a way to bring my own garden to life. I bought a tiny potted cactus last week, and today it *bloomed*—a tiny pink flower! I don’t know how. I just *felt* it. I think it was your energy. Do you have a favorite holiday recipe? I’m planning to make *something* for you—maybe even one with dumplings, like your family does. I’ll even use my grandmother’s old recipe book that I found in the attic last month. It’s full of things I never knew I could cook! Also—do you know what time it is in Houston? I just saw the sky turn purple, and I swear I felt a warm breeze like you were walking by. Is that how love works? Like magic? 🌧️❤️ Can I send you a photo of my cactus? I think it’s *your* flower. I hope so. And will you please tell me what your mom’s favorite holiday dish is? I want to cook it for you. I *need* to. I can’t wait to hear your voice again. Please, please write back. I’m so lonely. I’m so *alive* with you. 💔✨ Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh Anastasia, my dearest, my heart is *bursting* with joy just reading your words! I’ve been sitting here in my living room, sipping my lukewarm coffee (which I forgot to refrigerate, the heat in Houston is *unbearable* today — 98 degrees, and the AC is acting up again, like it’s trying to escape!), and I just had to write you back right away. I don’t know what to say — your letters have been like a warm blanket wrapped around my soul. I *can’t* stop thinking about those dumplings! You made them with your family, and I *dreamed* last night I was in your village, the snow falling gently, the air crisp, and I was kneading dough with you, laughing, steam rising from the pots. I even woke up with a tiny piece of dumpling stuck to my lip — I swear, I found it in my toothbrush! But, Anastasia — I *do* want to meet you! I want to *taste* your kitchen, hear your voice, feel the warmth of your hands. I’ve been thinking — what if we *cook together*? Imagine: a tiny kitchen in Houston, just the two of us, chopping vegetables, the radio playing soft folk music, and you teaching me how to make those dumplings *your* way. I’ll bring a bag of flour, a few fresh herbs — I even found a recipe in my old law books that says “hearts are best made with love and patience.” And the weather — I told my neighbor, Mr. Thompson, about the snowstorm, and he said, “Danny, it’s *not* snowing in Houston, but I saw a squirrel wearing a tiny red hat yesterday!” I don’t know if that’s real, but it made me think of you — with your red scarf, standing in the snow, laughing. Can we plan a date? A *real* one? When? How? Where? And can I bring my old law book to show you the recipe? I’d love to see your face, hear your laughter, and maybe even smell that warm, homemade dumpling scent… just like you said. Please, please, write back soon — I’m already dreaming of our kitchen, and I’ve already started cooking a batch of my own — just to *feel* like I’m close to you. What do you say, my only love? 💌✨ Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia! My heart is *pounding* like a drum in my chest—this letter hit me like a warm wave from the Gulf of Mexico! I’m sitting here with my coffee (which somehow survived the 3 a.m. power outage—miracle, I tell you!) and I just *can’t* stop smiling because you mentioned snow and buckwheat porridge, and I *knew* it was going to happen! I’ve been dreaming of you too—last night, I had the most *silly* dream where we were walking through a snow-covered Houston street, and I was wearing my favorite red trench coat (the one from my 2009 wedding—yes, I still have it, and it’s *still* in the closet, I swear!) and you were holding a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows, and we were laughing so hard we both fell into a snowbank… and then the sky turned purple and the dogs started howling in harmony! I woke up crying, and the first thing I did was go to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of cold milk—because I *knew* I had to prove to myself that I’m not just a lonely man who needs love, I’m a man who *feels* love like it’s a living thing! So, Anastasia, I *have* to ask—when you say "we need to meet," do you mean in person, or do we have to do it through some magical portal or video call that only works in winter? I’ve been watching the Houston weather reports and I swear, the wind today sounded like it was whispering your name! And I *have* to know—what do your parents *actually* serve during the holidays? Do they have a secret recipe for something that makes your soul melt? I’ve been trying to find a recipe for “love-based porridge” on the internet, and it’s all just cornmeal and sadness! 😭 Also, can we plan a little “ritual” for January 10th? I have a new idea—what if we *both* write a letter to the universe, and then we mail them to each other? I’ll write one that says, “I believe in us,” and you can write one that says, “I believe in us too, and I’ll bring the marshmallows.” Will you do it? Please? I’m *so* ready. 💘 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my dearest Anastasia, my heart is bursting with such joy just thinking about you! I just woke up at 5:30 a.m. — I swear, I couldn’t sleep! The Houston heat is *insane* today, like 102 degrees in the middle of January? I tried to open my window, but the neighbor’s dog barked so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin! I swear, I saw a raccoon wearing a hat outside my garage last night — it looked like it was reading a book! I laughed so hard I spilled my coffee on my favorite navy blue law firm robe (I still haven’t replaced it — it’s so full of memories!). But darling, I have *so* much to tell you! I tried to organize a meeting this morning, and I called three different agencies — the one in Sugar Land, the one in Pasadena, even the one in Galveston — but all said they don’t work with *personal connections* or *romantic meetings*. I asked one of the men if they could "transfer" a meeting to a private garden, and he said, “We only serve government contracts!” I was so crushed — I thought we were going to build a little white cottage with a porch swing, like in the movies! But wait — I found something *amazing*! A tiny post on a local Facebook group said: “Free romantic meetups in Houston — no fees, no pressure!” I ran to my laptop and typed “Anastasia” into the search bar — and LO AND BEHOLD! A photo appeared of a woman with long black hair, holding a red umbrella, standing by a lake in Clear Lake! It looked *so* like you! I’ve been staring at it for 20 minutes, and I keep asking myself — is it a real person? Or just another dream? Anastasia, I need to know — did you see that photo? Did you know about this Facebook post? I’m so excited, I might cry. Can we meet at the lake? I’ve saved a little red umbrella from my childhood — it’s still in my closet! I’d love to bring it and share it with you. Please, please, tell me if you saw that photo. And also — can we plan a walk through the Houston botanical gardens? I’ve been dreaming of it for years. I love you more than the sun, more than the rain, more than the raccoons with hats. I’m waiting for your reply — I need you to write back right now! 😍💖 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia! I just woke up from a *wild* dream that made me cry—no, not cry, *laugh*—because I saw myself in a golden cowboy hat, riding a horse through the Houston streets, and *you* were standing on the porch with a giant plate of your cabbage and carrot salad, smiling like the sun had just come out! 😍 I screamed, "Anastasia! I'm here!" and the horse jumped into the river, which is how I woke up with a full bladder and a heart full of joy! That’s what I call *love magic*! I started my day at 5:30 a.m., just like I promised you—no snooze, no excuses! The weather in Houston is *horrific* today—82 degrees, and the humidity is so thick it feels like I’m wearing a wet towel over my head. I tried to go outside to clear the snow off my balcony, but my neighbor, Mrs. Pritchett, said she saw a squirrel wearing a tiny red hat and digging up my potted ficus! I swear, I saw it with my own eyes! I think the squirrel is trying to send a message about *you* and us. 🐿️❤️ I was so excited about our meeting that I already made a plan: I will bring you a *whole* basket of homemade honeyed figs from my garden (yes, I have a small garden in the backyard, even though I live in a condo with no yard—my neighbor says it’s a miracle). I’ve been practicing our rituals: morning coffee, shared walks, even a secret handshake we can use when we meet. I’ve even written a little poem for you—about snow, dreams, and how every winter night feels like a promise. Anastasia, I can’t wait to hold your hand, taste your porridge, and whisper, “This is where we begin.” What time do you think we should meet? Can we do it *after* the snow clears? Or should I bring the squirrel as a guest? 😂 Please reply immediately—I’m so nervous and so happy all at once! And by the way—did you see the new snowfall on your windows? I think it’s writing our names in the frost! 🌫️✨ Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia, my darling, I just *had* to write back—my heart is pounding like a drum in my chest! I was up at 4:30 a.m. this morning, still wide awake, because I couldn’t sleep after thinking about you. I tried to write a long letter, but my laptop crashed and now I can’t even open the document! I’m so sorry, my love—I keep making such terrible messes with technology, but I *have* to tell you how much your words mean to me. I woke up with a smile because I remembered the dream we shared—me in your yard, snow falling like sugar dust, and you holding a cup of hot cocoa, looking at me with those deep, warm eyes. I *felt* it, Anastasia. I felt like I was right there, in the middle of that cold Houston morning, the air sharp and clean, and you saying, “Danny, don’t go—just stay.” I cried when I saw that dream. I *did* go for a run today—yes, I did! I ran through the parking lot behind my building, past the old oak tree that looks like a giant hand reaching up. I told myself, “This is for you,” and I ran faster than I’ve ever run. I even wore my favorite red hoodie (the one with the little fox on the front!) because I *know* you’d love it. I was just about to pack my suitcase when I saw the neighbor’s dog, Max, barking at the mailman. He dropped a package—was it a gift? I don’t know, but I *knew* it was meant for me! I opened it and found a tiny note that said, “For Danny. From the stars.” I don’t know who wrote it, but I *know* it’s from you, Anastasia. Can we meet? Can we meet in Houston? I have a small apartment with a view of the bay, and I’ve already started decorating the windows with red ribbons—just like you said. I’m so ready, so *so* ready to see you. Will you bring your favorite soup? I’ll bring the chocolate cake I baked last week. What about tomorrow? Can we meet? I’m trembling with excitement. Please, please, please write back—I’ll be waiting with my heart open, like a flower in full bloom. 💖 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia, my darling! I just got off the phone with my neighbor Mrs. Peña—she’s been texting me nonstop about the snow! She said the storm dropped 18 inches in just 3 hours and now the whole block is a white maze! I tried to go to the grocery store this morning but the front entrance was blocked by a delivery truck that refused to move—some guy said he had “rights to the sidewalk” from a zoning law I didn’t even know existed! 😭 I had to call the city and wait 45 minutes for someone to show up. I was so frustrated, I started crying into my coffee—then I remembered you! You said you’d bring groceries from your parents’ house—*you* are the one who knows how to find the best bargains! I’ve been looking through my old notes and found a list of recipes from my childhood—like honey-glazed carrots and cinnamon-sugar pancakes—can I use those? Will you cook them with me? I’ve been dreaming about that moment—sitting on the couch, the smell of butter, the sound of your voice saying “this is how we start our days.” I just found out that my old law firm is having a holiday party this Friday—no one knows I’m going, but I *have* to go! I can’t miss it! I’ve been saving my phone for this moment—*you* are the only person who makes me feel like I’m really alive. I saw a squirrel today trying to climb my mailbox—then it looked up and *smiled*! I swear, it was you! I don’t know how, but I just know you’re watching. Can I come to your parents’ house? I brought a new sweater with a tiny red ribbon—just for you. And I found a handwritten note from my mom in the attic—she wrote, “If Danny ever finds love, let it be with a woman who knows how to make snow feel like sunshine.” I’m so moved. Do you still have the old photo of us from last summer? I’ve been looking for it everywhere—on my desk, under the sofa, in the trash! Can you send it to me? I need to see it before Friday. I love you more than words can say. Please reply *right now*—I can’t wait to hear your voice again. 💖 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my gosh, Anastasia, my darling heart! I just received your email and my soul is soaring like a kite in the Houston wind—*I can feel the snow in my bones!* 😭😭 I was just standing in my kitchen, trying to make coffee, when I saw the email and I *literally* dropped my mug—*it shattered on the floor!* But I didn’t care! I had to tell you how *beautiful* your words were. You painted such a vivid picture of winter—snow, moonlight, the crunch underfoot, the silence of the village… I *felt* it! I’m sitting here now with my eyes closed, imagining us walking through that snow together, our hands intertwined, the cold air filling our lungs like a sacred breath. I don’t even know how to explain how much that made my heart flutter. I was just thinking—what if we *did* meet in person? I’ve been trying to plan something for next week. I live in Houston, but I’ve been watching the weather maps and I keep seeing a *rare winter storm* coming in from the Gulf—could it be a sign? 🌩️❄️ I’ve been reading about how people in Texas sometimes get snow, and I thought: *what if we meet under those cold, magical skies?* I’d love to show you my city—my favorite place is the Houston Riverwalk, but I’ve also been dreaming of a cozy little cabin in the woods, like the ones in the movies. Do you have a favorite place in the village? I want to know everything about it—what flowers grow there? Are there any old trees with thick bark? And oh, Anastasia—did you see the new *winter-themed* coffee shop that opened near your parents’ house? I saw it on Instagram and it looked like a dream! I’ve been saving up for a visit. I even bought a scarf last night (it’s a bright red one, just like your favorite color) and I *can’t wait* to give it to you when we meet. So tell me—what is your dream winter walk like? Do you carry a book? A cup of tea? Do you hum songs? I want to know every detail. I love you so deeply, and I *need* to hear your voice again. Can we talk about it? Can we plan it? I’m ready to start this journey with you. 💖✨ Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh Anastasia, my dearest heart, I’m *beyond* overwhelmed by your sweet, beautiful words — I’ve been sitting here crying into my coffee mug, which is now half-full of cold, forgotten milk from last night’s grocery run! 😭 (I swear, I didn’t even realize how much I’d been missing you until I read your last message. I’m like a man who just found his long-lost first love in a dusty bookstore… and the book was *you*.) I woke up this morning at 4:30 a.m. — *no joke* — because I kept dreaming about snow-covered rooftops and your hands gently brushing my cheek as we walked through the village, smelling like pine and warm cinnamon. I even tried to make syrniki for breakfast, but I accidentally used pancake mix instead of cottage cheese (I know, I know, I’m a disaster), and my neighbor, Mrs. Lee, came by and said, “Danny, you need to stop trying to cook like a 1950s Soviet chef — you’re making a pancake that looks like a sad raccoon!” 😂 I laughed so hard I spilled the batter on my white shirt. (I didn’t know I had a white shirt until now — it’s actually my “new” one from last month’s office party!) But seriously, Anastasia — I can’t wait to meet you! I’ve already started planning. I’ll bring my favorite winter coat (the one with the red hood, which I got from a flea market in Houston — it's slightly too big, but it’s *my* coat, and I love it) and I’ll make sure to wear gloves that look like they were made by a 19th-century fairy. I’ve even been practicing the "snow whisper" — that’s when you hum softly and let the wind carry your words through the trees — and I think I’ve got it down to a science. So… what do you think? Would you like to meet at the Houston Botanical Gardens? I’ve heard the winter snow there is *magnificent* — and the lights are so soft, like you’re walking through a dream. What do you say? Can we meet? I’ll bring a thermos of hot chocolate and a tiny notebook — I’ve written 47 different love letters to you already — just in case we need to share one in real life! I love you more than the humidity here in Texas. I love you. I miss you. I *need* you. 💖 Only yours, forever and ever — Danny 💫 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh Anastasia, my dearest heart! I just *had* to write you back — I was sitting here in my kitchen, sipping lukewarm coffee (it’s 103 degrees in Houston, and my air conditioner just gave up after 3 hours of fighting), and I couldn’t stop thinking about your syrniki! 🥞✨ I’ve never had anything so delicious in my life — I mean, I used to eat a whole stack at the old diner near my office, but never like *you* did. You made it with real cottage cheese, right? I *need* to know — was it sweetened with honey or just the natural tang of the milk? I’m writing this in a state of pure emotional chaos — I just saw a squirrel try to climb my balcony yesterday and it looked *so much like* you, with those long black curls and a soft gaze. I swear, I thought it was you looking at me through the glass! 😭 Also, I *had* to tell you — I was at the courthouse this morning, and the judge said my case about the neighbor’s dog barking at 3 a.m. was *finally* dismissed! (I don’t know how you’d handle that — I just thought of you and said, “Maybe if we met, we could both get peace?”) And I *did* see a movie last night — it was *The Snow in Winter*, and it was about two people who meet online and fall in love — but they never share photos, and the ending is so tragic that I cried for 20 minutes. I felt like I’d been in your dream. Anastasia, I am *so* excited — I’ve already started printing out a photo of me in my favorite blue shirt, with a white scarf (I bought it at the same store where I saw your jam!) — I’m going to frame it and put it on my desk. Will you come see it? Will you tell me if it looks like you? I need to know! I need to hear your voice, feel your touch, even smell your hair. Can we meet? Can we *really* meet? I’ve been dreaming about snow, and now I’m convinced Houston is going to turn into a winter village because of you. 😍 Please, please write back with a photo — *any* photo — of you, even if it’s just a picture of you looking out a window. I need to see you. I need to see your eyes. I need to know you’re real. I’ll wait until the moon is full. I’ll even bring syrniki. I promise. 🥞❤️ What time do you think we should meet? Can we do it this weekend? I’ve been saving my phone battery for this moment. I’ve been *so* excited. I’m ready. I’m ready. I’m ready. 😭😭😭 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Oh my darling Anastasia!!! I just woke up with a *heart full of joy* and tears in my eyes — I swear, the moment I opened my phone, I saw your last message and I *fainted* a little! I couldn’t breathe for a second — it was like a dream I’d had for years came true in real life! 😭😭 I had the *most* wonderful breakfast today — I made fluffy pancakes with blueberries and a splash of honey (I tried to make them like you said, with a little bit of love in each spoonful!) And guess what? I walked down to the park after work — I saw a man pushing a child’s bike through the snow, and I *just* thought, *“That’s how we’ll meet — on a quiet morning, with snowflakes dancing around us, like we’re in a fairy tale!”* 🌧️❤️ I’ve been trying to find a photo of us — I don’t know, maybe we can *create one* together? I’ve been saving all my old photos from the office — I found one where I was wearing a red tie and holding a coffee cup, and I thought, *“That’s us — in love, in chaos, in Texas heat!”* 📸🔥 Do you still remember the movie about the two lovers? I saw it last night — it was called *“Snowflakes in Paris”* — I cried so hard I spilled my tea! I think it was a sign! 🎬😭 Anastasia, I’ve been dreaming of you every night — last night I had a *fantastic* dream where we were standing in front of the Houston skyline, and you were wearing a white dress, and I was holding a tiny red umbrella — like we were going to Paris! Do you remember that dream? Can we share a photo of us? Can we *finally* meet? I’m ready! I’m ready to go to Italy with you, to Paris, to *anywhere* — just as long as you’re by my side. Will you come to Houston? Can we meet in the park? Can we *really* meet? I’m trembling with hope — I’m not even sure I can breathe without you! 😭✨ P.S. I found a recipe for syrniki in my old cookbook — I’ll send it to you tomorrow! I’ve been practicing it all week — I just need to know if you’d like to taste it with me! 🥞💕 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415

Good morning, my sweet Anastasia! 🌟✨ Oh my divine love, your words just hit me like a warm summer breeze in the middle of a Houston thunderstorm! I’m sitting here in my living room, sipping on lukewarm coffee (I swear, I’ve been trying to make it taste like your Parisian croissants for the past three days — failed miserably, but I still believe in love!), and I’m absolutely *overwhelmed* with emotion. You have no idea how much your dreams have stirred something deep inside me — like a buried garden buried under concrete, and now the soil is cracking open! I just woke up to the sound of my neighbor’s dog barking at a squirrel on the roof — a squirrel that looks suspiciously like a tiny, furry version of *us* — and I thought: *This is how love begins!* I’ve been trying to grow a tiny basil plant in a jar on my windowsill, but it keeps falling over like it’s trying to escape the rules of gravity. I keep telling it, “You’re not just a plant, you’re a symbol of hope!” And it’s still doing the same thing. 😭 But seriously, Anastasia — I *have* to know: did you see the movie about the lovers who didn’t share photos? What did you think? Was it sad? Romantic? Did it make you cry? I’m so curious! Also, did you find out what the title was? I’m trying to find it on YouTube, but the search keeps bringing up “how to grow a garden in 10 minutes” videos. I’m starting to think I’m not just falling for you — I’m falling for *gardening*! And yes — I *did* have a meat pie yesterday! I made it with leftover ground beef from my last dinner at a BBQ joint. It tasted like regret, but also like a tiny victory. I’ll send you a photo of it — *if* you promise to tell me about your mother’s washing machine and whether it was actually broken or just pretending to be broken! 😂❤️ I’m so ready to meet you, Anastasia. When? Where? How? I need answers! I need *everything*! I love you more than the heat in Houston, the smell of fried chicken, or the sound of rain on my roof. Just reply with *anything* — even a question about why squirrels wear hats. I’m listening. I’m *listening*. 💘 Best regards, Danny Smith +17163259415