Failure!

Dear Melissa,
Do you still remember me? I was in your class in college. We were together in Chemistry Honours. You were the best student in the class while I managed to pass with great difficulty. You were so great looking. You still look magnificent after these fifteen years. You were so popular. Every boy wanted to sit next to you. Every girl wanted to be known as your friend. You were the cultural secretary. You organized all those grand concerts in the college hall. You sang and danced like a dream. Envious people said that you could not carry a tune. And that you had two left feet. But I always fought with them. I always told them to observe how graceful you were, how effortless your performance was. The truth is Melissa that I loved you. I still do. And not the college sweetheart Melissa. But the thirty six year woman that you are. Melissa, you don't understand just how pretty you actually are. Its something more than your mere looks. You appear perfect to me. Every part of you has been created with care and each is proportionate. Your husband is a cosmetic surgeon isn't he? What does he know about your beauty? What can he do to admire it. I have loved you ever since our orientation day in college when I first saw you. And girl, its no ordinary love. Every moment of my life you are with me. I carry your picture in my wallet. Framed photographs of you are hanging in each room of my huge five storey mansion. I have not married because that would go against the love I feel for you. You know that I have a lot of money. And I really have nothing to do all day long. So I look at your photographs and paintings of you. I have painted you many times. You know I have talent for art. It's the only thing I can do really. I get professionals to take your photographs. Its not difficult. Your husband is quite a celebrity as cosmetic surgeon and you people get invited to all the right parties. Baby, I get invited too. But I don't go. First, it would disturb the penance I am doing in your name. There is also the other reason. You surely remember it. It happened in our college days. I had asked you to the annual dance and you had said no. Not once but three times. That was too much for me to digest. I had tried to hurt you. And your husband nearly died in the fracas that followed. If I appear before him now he will surely recognize me won't he? But you can always come to me. And you will after you finish reading this letter. This letter of love. I have kidnapped your son Jon from his school. It was not too difficult. The four year old boy is rather fond of lollipops as you very well know. All I had to do was offer him four lollipops. Well, Jon is safe and sound in my mansion. But someone must come here to take him home. Naturally, you must come. Come immediately. Or else your son will be killed. Who will kill him. Well, I may be a good-for-nothing as you have often said babes, but I have enough strength to strangle your poor son. So what are you waiting for? Get into that sparkling new sports car you husband has just bought. And come to me. Or else¦
Love,Ian.