Dear Mr. M,
its been a while. of course my letters, my words mean nothing and everything to you.
are you alright? are you doing well? have you noticed my absence and do you miss me the way you did before? im a fool for asking so much more from you than i was ever prepared to give. and you were a fool to follow me blindly. but we all are fools in love at some point, or maybe even at almost all points.
does this make us equals, Mr. M? you hurt me, i hurt you and is everything supposed to be alright now? for i do miss our friendship, and our talks and i definately do miss the odd sense of floating between comfort and uncomfort with you. it gave us edge, wouldnt you say?
not that this was ever a competition, but the tie i fear, has made everything worse than it ever was? however, is this for the best? if this so we can finally separate ourselves from each other, so that we can now be individuals, in who's past only we belong? individuals so that we can move on and grow? must we let go this way as a sign of giving up childlike facies and frivolities?
if so, why must the loss of you be my maturation?
i learnt much about myself being with you. i learnt the extent of my pateince and the absolute heat of my anger. i learnt how to take risks and allow myself to fall, and then how to somehow manage to get my arse up and pull together. deviating from melodrama has also been a lesson. your stubborness and selfishness taught me how immensly important it was to be humble. and like you told me once, long ago, 'communication is the road to any good relationship.'
ironic, not unpredictable however, nothing i learnt from you, you ever practiced.
Mr. M. youre not going to read this and i am well aware. if you do, you must know i am someone who might not always be able to be there, or say the right things, or take trips to the Bahamas with you; but i will be someone who cares for you constantly, who thinks about you everyday and hopes through all the mistakes we made, we mgiht be able to someday look back, devoid of bitterness.
you were such an important part of my life. i was the happiest and saddest being with you.
i suppose we have learnt from each other whatever was left to learn, and now our booming egos take place of our hearts and our minds and do as they like. maybe for the best.
I hope, Mr. M., that you're ok and that you know i do love you.
Sleep Sweet,
Ms. P
its been a while. of course my letters, my words mean nothing and everything to you.
are you alright? are you doing well? have you noticed my absence and do you miss me the way you did before? im a fool for asking so much more from you than i was ever prepared to give. and you were a fool to follow me blindly. but we all are fools in love at some point, or maybe even at almost all points.
does this make us equals, Mr. M? you hurt me, i hurt you and is everything supposed to be alright now? for i do miss our friendship, and our talks and i definately do miss the odd sense of floating between comfort and uncomfort with you. it gave us edge, wouldnt you say?
not that this was ever a competition, but the tie i fear, has made everything worse than it ever was? however, is this for the best? if this so we can finally separate ourselves from each other, so that we can now be individuals, in who's past only we belong? individuals so that we can move on and grow? must we let go this way as a sign of giving up childlike facies and frivolities?
if so, why must the loss of you be my maturation?
i learnt much about myself being with you. i learnt the extent of my pateince and the absolute heat of my anger. i learnt how to take risks and allow myself to fall, and then how to somehow manage to get my arse up and pull together. deviating from melodrama has also been a lesson. your stubborness and selfishness taught me how immensly important it was to be humble. and like you told me once, long ago, 'communication is the road to any good relationship.'
ironic, not unpredictable however, nothing i learnt from you, you ever practiced.
Mr. M. youre not going to read this and i am well aware. if you do, you must know i am someone who might not always be able to be there, or say the right things, or take trips to the Bahamas with you; but i will be someone who cares for you constantly, who thinks about you everyday and hopes through all the mistakes we made, we mgiht be able to someday look back, devoid of bitterness.
you were such an important part of my life. i was the happiest and saddest being with you.
i suppose we have learnt from each other whatever was left to learn, and now our booming egos take place of our hearts and our minds and do as they like. maybe for the best.
I hope, Mr. M., that you're ok and that you know i do love you.
Sleep Sweet,
Ms. P
1 comment:
very very nice post. honest, fragile.
you're a gifted writer.
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