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Dad took it down for me and Mum made sure I dressed properly before I could race it round the house and onto the footpath outside our house. Mum and Dad and Nan all stood at the front gate, in their dressing gowns, while I raced my bike up past the lane and back again. I wanted to show my friend, Jeanette, who lived across the road but Mum said it was too early. No, it wasn’t. Here came Jeanette on her bicycle and we raced each other.
Nan and my parents went inside to get dressed to go to church. This was one of the few times we all went to church together. Soon Mum came out to tell me to come in and get changed for church. It was an effort to leave my bike behind and I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t ride it to church.
There’s a possibility though, that you don’t exist, and I’m writing this letter for no one. But in spite of all the cynicism I’m entitled to, I have to believe that you’re out there somewhere. I have to believe that all the heartache I’d ever had to endure will someday lead me to you. I have to believe that God created you because He knew I would need you. And while I know I’m a complete person on my own, I have to believe that someone like you exists, someone who might not complete me, but can make life better. More beautiful. More colorful. A man who can make me believe in love again.