Dear Reader,

It gets harder to write now. I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps it's because I know all I want to say can't be said... and all that I know should be kept inside. What ever truth you want, you should come and ask. If you feel numb, please continue to be so, because nothing good can ever come of thinking of what was. I don't need to know the truth - but I know it's not like you to ask.

I bet you wonder why I write to you now.

You did a lot.
Thank you.
You did a lot.
And you never explained.

My heart was broken since the first day I laid my eyes on you.
You know there's truth in that.

Our lives lead us elsewhere. You've found your happiness, I'm honestly glad for you... and if you need to know... I'm happy.

In love again and happy.

And all the other things that I should tell you...

Well - Some things are better left unsaid.

Yours truly,
Me.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- How do I love thee by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.


Dear Love,

I miss you.

Yours Truly,
Me.

Dear Reader,

I wonder if the world is ready for me. I've realized how I see things at times can't be accepted nor could my perception of things be understood. I guess one of the problems with being open minded (I like to think that I am) is that perhaps you can't draw the line between appropriate and inappropriate. Sometimes I wonder why it is that I feel so unmoved in critical situations. Have I built my walls up that high? Or perhaps I now surround my castle in a city that would need to be torn down before I would let anything get to me...

Maybe I have grown insensitive. I wonder why, yet maybe I'm just carefree instead?

I find that most times my reaction towards things are thought to be strange or rather different. Instead of jealously, I find pride. For example, when I am with someone and others look - I am not jealous but rather proud to be with someone that could mesmerize the world. In situations where one would find themselves murderously mad, I find that I am immediately seeking to learn to forgive and to mend broken things... and when there is pain - I try to love.

Perhaps there is something wrong with the way I handle things but I've learned life to short and unpredictable and at its worse - cruel, vile and insincere. Maybe I am moving too fast in my own life. Maybe I should just stop and wait and hope that one day someone else would understand me because I can't figure myself out right now - maybe someone else will give me a different perspective of life.

I want to rid my life of pain, hate, anger, distance and insincerity. That's not life though is it? Without its ups and downs but - I've known pain, hate, anger, distance and insincerity. I have seen it done onto a child as it has been done to an adult and onto myself. I have felt it. I have gone through with it and dealt with it. I think it's time I rid of it now.

Yet, why is it by the end of the day, the world makes it seem like it is wrong to have a life so full of love?

Yours Truly,
Me.