An open love letter to James Marsden

Okay Mr. Marsden,

I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there. Why? Because you’re not real, what with the flawless face, perfect hair, gorgeous smile, intoxicating eyes and impeccable style. I physically cannot understand how someone can be so flawless in the world and be real, so that’s why I ask you to stop right there.

You’ve always looked great, James, from the moment I first saw your face (The Notebook) to everything in between.

When you laugh, a part of me melts. When you sing, a part of me crumples from joy.

But see, the thing is, you are incredibly talented. You can pull off the comedy number as gloriously as the greatest comedian, you have the charm of a hundred charmers, the intensity of an action star, and the romantic qualities that every rom com/heartbreaker/tearjerker needs.

From originally studying broadcast journalism (I’m a journalism student, holler) to taking the acting world by storm, you do it well.

And to top it all off, you’ve done triathlons, and work with Alzheimer’s Associations, and worked to help the Tourette Syndrome Association. You use your talents for good James, and I just love you more.

That’s amore,
Anjelica Oswald


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