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Kevin Durant, something made me realize I want to love you

Dear Kevin, 

I’ve overlooked you. I’m sorry. I got caught up with point guards and I was blind to how much forwards have to offer. And not all forwards, YOU forwards. 

Let’s talk about your body. Good god your arms are sexy. They’re so LONG and lean and toned and smooth. I love them and I want them double wrapped around me, which I think is possible even though I’m not an especially small-sized human being (ok I am). As long as you can remove all of these images from the internet and get people to freaking stop calling you that because really, no girl wants to make out with a spider. To be fair, people have a lot of different intercourse preferences, but it is REALLY not my thing to introduce spiders into my love making in any kind of way. Now to your face. It is my general opinion that people do not pay enough attention to the way a man’s face looks when he’s not smiling or making some kind of weird sexy face to try to communicate his mating desires. Your smiling and mating-desires faces are really good, but the point is, your relaxed face reveals that you are a good guy with a good heart who looks really good in backpacks. And even better, your exertion faces are suggestive of the kind of passion and enthusiasm love requires. Also, I really appreciate that you chose to put all your tattoos on your lean and sexy core, so that when we visit my grandparents this summer, you can wear short-sleeved t-shirts and we won’t get sucked into the whole (unfair!) tattoo judgement whirlpool.

Now bodies and tattoos are not everything. Everyone talks at length about how great your personality is and I believe them. Ok, that’s it on personality.

Now I don’t expect you to come running my way just because I recognize all your amazing qualities. So let me tell you a little about myself. A bird pooped on me this morning. On my head. This hasn’t happened to me in years. In fact it may be the first time it has ever happened to me. This may seem like a strange event to inspire a love letter, but it made me realize “Hm, maybe this is a really special moment in my life, and it’s time to go after it hard as far as love is concerned.” You, Kevin Wayne Durant, are the first person I thought of to go after. Other special things about me include (in addition to being able to see the bright side of getting pooped on) that I can lift heavy things, and I like science fiction while maintaining exceptional girlish charm. So what do you say KWD? Is it too soon for nicknames? Or should we just let love take hold?

Love,

Catherine