Dear Reader,

I think our generation has some sort of internal obsession with pain. Maybe it is our need for something real - and perhaps we imagine that if we feel pain then that marks our experiences as something true. There's so much drama in what we go through for the sake of wanting something to be undeniable; the need to feel that we're here that - "Hey. I exist" feeling.

As much as I had wanted that - I, however, now have a want to wake up to realize - "Hey. It wasn't real." It's not pain anymore that I've been going through. It's just sadness. I guess that pain's died out and the ashes it left is still seeping into my skin. Everything is too late now. Words can't change anything. Actions become meaningless unless it could change everything - but like I've said. Everything is too late now.

I've been trying to keep myself grounded, but I find that I only continue to bury myself now. I'm not sure what this feeling is. How could I love one and not want them but miss another but not love them at all? Is that moving on? Is that what it's like? It is not that my heart and mind is torn. It is not that my body and soul is torn. It's just - the two have been so close to one other that I strangely feel there is something wrong with the merging. Perhaps it is something to get use to? I'm not quite sure. I'm just searching for reason now.

There is so much I've not written to you about reader. It's not that it is a secret. I just feel that you need to be left out sometimes. Sometimes.

Yours Truly,
Nayt.