Vanilla and Red Cabbage

The Antagonist: Broken Peace

He is everything that I am not. He is the absence of me. I despise him. Yet he is in love with me.
He said so in a letter he delivered to my front door this morning. It has been a month since he rudely knocked on my door to deliver a moldy vegetable, and we have not even made eye contact since. He still passes every Tuesday, but we have mutually ceased contact. Even his blaring piano music has stopped. It has been peaceful.
Until now.
The letter.
I have read it a dozen times as if I expect the words to morph on the page, but they refuse to move from their positions.
This is what they so stubbornly formed:
My Antagonist-
For a long time now I have loved you from afar. That is what I foolishly thought, anyway. Until a month ago today, "love" was a selfish daydream in my head which involved romance and candlelight dinner dates and sweet nothings whispered into a lover's ear. It was the fateful day I so despicably entitled myself to your doorstep that I realized my wrong thinking. Love, dear Antagonist, is a choice we must make daily to respect and hold dear the recipient of our affection. And that is what I have been doing these past thirty days. Loving you. Quieting my piano, ceasing to whistle as I walk past your house, and erasing every tiny bit of evidence of me from your waking perceptions. I have does all of this because I believe it is what you wish. Please, if I am wrong about your desires, let me know so I may know how to better love you. But if you want me to continue as I have been, watching from afar and granting you space, you are welcome to imagine that this letter was never written and continue with your daily life. Notify me of anything you would like to say by noon tomorrow.
-Your Protagonist
I do not know how to respond to this declaration. I only know that if I am going to, time is running out.