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  • I have many of these, and as the years go by, they pile page after page. What goes on in my mind when I write these letters? Some of them are quite outlandish; built on a fictitious young mind from a boy who thought he was something more. Whereas others are just simply ways for me to express something I would never express to that person in their presence; in words. That only in writing could they be in their most sincerest form.


    3/22/09
    Letter Writing

    Dear Emily, (Admired)

    I have wondered for a long time at the possibility of us ever being together, of me finally being able to express that love that I so badly desire to show you, whether physically, vocally, or mentally expressed, I know I cannot. Though I still try hard to hold on to the notion that you will accept me. The fact still remains that I will not accept myself into your arms, that I know that it is not possible for either of us to reciprocate the love that I feel. That in truth I am unworthy of you.


    My dearest ----, you know for a fact that I am dying, and through this death of my youth I have tried my best to remain ever young with you. It was through you that I have shared my happiness and my sorrows, my ecstasy and my woe. It was through you that I have found my way into figuring out who I am, and what I was capable of. It was through you that I finally found myself, and finally loved myself. You have shown me the meaning of life and that living it could be so much more worthwhile. You have even proved me wrong in the case that I would live on my own, without ever loving again. My friend, you have taught me so much about the meaning of life, that I wish I could stay in this world longer.


    Alas, my dear, I cannot accept the faintest notion that I could embrace you for that one moment. My dear, I know that in truth you are indeed capable of loving again, despite your pain. I know that you can and will find someone more worthy of your love, someone less tainted by their past transgressions than I. Someone who is more pure of heart and someone more capable of loving you back. Despite how much it pains me, my friend, I wish that one day, you would pay my grave a visit just once and feel my presence for that last time. If your God permits me to, I shall indeed give you my blessings, spiritually and physically.

    I honestly look back on it, and I wonder what happened to me. Where did the sincerity go?
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