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„I have been in love with you and your kind for a long time, but I don't know how long exactly. I remember very well the day you sneaked into my heart. At that time, I was still a child and still dreamed of great love.

You were suddenly the center of my universe, which is why I could only think of you for years. There was no other man for me that impressed me the way you did. You had this attraction for me right from the start and it never made me find anything else as attractive as you.

To my greatest shame I have to say that you are not real, and you never will be. You'll never be more than Hergé's fiction and Steven Spielberg's latest box office hit.

But whether in the style of your ‚father' or in that of Spielberg, you are, remain and have always been the man of my dreams. I just wish you knew how I felt about you and that you were really real like you have been for me over the years.

Truly, Spielberg gave you an appearance that I had always wanted for you in reality. Blue eyes, a face with fine features and a slim body, which nevertheless suggests that you are not a weakling.

I love you, whether new or old style and I wish I could be as close to you as in my imagination or in my dreams. But that will probably only remain a wonderful dream forever. How I hate this fact."

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Again, and again the same thoughts, the same feelings and the same longing that haunted them. Nobody who knew her secret understood it. Her mother constantly preached to her that she should finally grow up, because at her age she should have understood that cartoon characters were not real and never would be.

Her father, on the other hand, saw all this much more calmly and still dismissed this as a kind of phase in which his daughter was. The young woman was a little grateful that her father thought so about her love for this man. As a result, no other person had to let her say that she was crazy and should finally grow up. Her parents actually knew that their child had always lived in their own world.

She thought that was perfectly fine because the people knew her there. It was not quite her own world in which she lived, because it was more the world that Hergé had created for his fictions. But that was exactly the world in which she felt safe, protected, secure and comfortable. The people there liked her and there was nothing and no one to separate her from the man she loved above all else.

Everything was perfect for her in this wonderful, perfect world and together with her dream man she experienced mysterious, great, and exciting adventures while forming the happiest couple ever with him.

What a pity that all of this was only possible in her imagination. Her best friend Lilly, on the other hand, found her love for this cartoon character strange, but still showed understanding for her heartache. She did not judge her for these feelings but was there for her when it tore her down. Lilly could not understand it, but she would never twist her best friend out of it and think she was crazy about it.

Her other friends, at least whom she called friends, knew nothing about her great love for Hergé's great fiction, and if she was honest, nobody else had to know. She did not want to hear more mockery, ridicule, and sermons than she was used to from her mother. In fact, to be honest, she was incredibly happy in this ‚relationship' and had to admit that she couldn't imagine life, even if it was mostly in her imagination, with no other man than him.

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