- Pablo Neruda.

Simply because I have no heart to speak the truth to you.

Dear Reader,

Something new comes this way. I think this might be my reason to want to stay.

Yours Truly,
Nayt.

Dear Reader,

Sometimes, I do not realize what it is that I write and for what purpose it is that I do write my letters to you. I'm unsure who reads this and like a blur, I think someone very dear to me once assured me that every letter was read. I'm not sure - but perhaps that was said in a dream. I wish I could clearly recall, but perhaps as I try, I'm trying to forget that was said.

I can't believe I was so lucky to have been so happy in my life, and sometimes, when I do recall, I am smiling like I did before. Just secretly smiling to myself. That was the peace that I loved and at times is the feeling that keeps me in my wake and is the thought that kisses me to sleep. I feel it sometimes... always. To forget that feeling I think would be as if I was forgetting myself.

And myself then... I am trying to forget.

Yours Truly,
Me.

It's a wonderful feeling. It's wonderful. That feeling...

Dear Reader,

I feel really stupid talking to you. I feel really, really stupid trying to talk to you. I don't know if you notice though, but it doesn't matter. It's not that I bother but it's just sometimes my tracks just lead me to you and I'm thinking, "Why not?"

Yet, I guess I did better when I was running away. I can't believe all of these letters that I've written and none of them were strong enough to move you to want to come and save me, to tell me what I thought was wrong, to tell me what I felt was deceiving me.

I made it easy for you with these letters. Be satisfied with what you know now, because I find it hardest to search for you inside of me now.

I'm just get bruised easily you know? That's all. I mean, this will go away in the afternoon. I try to forget things easily. I try to block things easily - but you don't know why. You don't know the real reason why.

What I mean to you is not what you mean to me.
Hell. What could that actually mean?

Yours Truly,
Me.