It's fiction, but sort of based on something real.
To my beloved:
I saw the girl of your dreams today. It wasn’t actually her, of course, it was just someone like her.
I didn’t even realize that she existed until I saw her, or rather her facsimile. I knew then that this was the girl that you were meant to be with, whenever and wherever you should find her. I don’t know how I knew. The only clues I have are her appearance – I can see her, but I don’t know her. It’ll have to be left up to you to pick her out from others like her.
She is slim, very slim, pale-skinned and fit. She has dark brown hair, very straight and glossy, on the long side. She is very attractive, though in a conventional sort of way. She wears jeans and heels and does not wear glasses. She probably wears a touch too much makeup. She is, I think, a little bit shorter than me, though I can’t see that part clearly.
As I picture her, I try to get a clearer idea of who she is, beyond superficial details, but I cannot. The attributes I give to her are simply things I think you’d like, but maybe that’s not who she is at all. Maybe she’s won’t be what you thought you wanted, or what I assume you’d want, but I’m positive that she’s it. I want to meet her, when you find her, just to confirm that I was right. At the same time, I don’t, because I’m not sure I want to see just how unlike me she is.
That’s what this is about. I have seen the girl of your dreams, if only as an abstraction, and she definitely is not me. I know you’ll be good to her, and I hope she’ll be good to you. Now that I know that I’m not the one, there’s nothing left here for us. You’ll be happy when you find her. I’ll be happy knowing that things are the way they ought to be.
I wish you luck, and love you always.