Day Forty Seven

Dear Boy,

I still miss you.
(guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothin' at all)...

Day Forty Six

Some things are just worth waiting for. Like a letter that makes you want to cry and smile at the same time.





:)

Day Forty Five

Sometimes I feel like I'm at a dead end. We have nowhere else to go and yet, we're still trying to push forward, albeit at a much slower pace. I could liken our friendship now to a relationship that is slowly stopping the engine, but I fear that what we have even now will come to abrupt stop. The thing about gradualism is that you don't feel or realise a single thing until change becomes evident. That's why the fable talks about the frog that is being slowly boiled to death not realising because the temperature of the water is being slowly increased. That's why when we step into water, we slowly get used to the temperature by gradually submersing ourselves. I fear that in a few weeks time, I will be thrown into the deep end when he returns to med school and has new things that will take up all his time, while I will still be languishing at home, waiting for university to start.
I should step into the water now, under my own volition, before I get pushed in.

Day Forty Four

When I'm feeling crap, I find it best to dissect all my emotions and try to find the root cause of them.
Disappointed: because he didn't return a greeting. However, he no longer has an obligation to do that sort of stuff any more
Sad/miffed: because our conversations are lifeless

Bottom line: because I can no longer say things, actions are the only way to show how I feel (still). It's just disappointing that he doesn't show them so it makes me think that I'm just barking up the wrong tree. However, I also understand why he can't afford the time to mollycoddle my emotions - he's stressed over something else. It's a conundrum. I just wish that someone was around to look after me and listen to every single thing that makes me down because at the end of the day, sometimes I wonder if I've just got to take what's mine and just leave. But I know I can't leave - not just yet because the thought of him with someone else terrifies me like a nightmare.

Day Forty Three

Touch him darling, and I'll make you pay.

Day Forty Two

Stupid brain. Why, oh why must you continue to pine? Boxing Day is the day where shopping is meant to take away the ills of the world for just one day. I should be stuffed and full by now by consumerism and yet, I still feel slightly empty inside.

Day Forty One

Christmas is the time that you spend with loved ones. The one I love(d) is an island away.
I actually don't know if I love him any more. Romantic love, no. Brotherly love, not quite either. The complete love, possibly. The type that also has a sub section that allows me to also want to kiss him too.

Day Forty

All I want for Christmas is you.

Day Thirty Nine

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just going through the motions and if it's all just a mindscrew. Like I should know that I should mourn. So I mourn without wanting to move on.
I also wonder what goes through his mind. Every relationship is divided into three parts:
- talking and hanging out
- sexual
- affectionate
I miss affectionate the most. And I don't know if I just want to keep talking in hopes that he'll give that part back to me one day.

It's funny how our relationship is now. He described it as this:
one person: "Hey, where are you?"
the other person: "I'm still here"
I just need to believe that he still is until one day we both don't need each other any more.

Day Thirty Eight

I've got a tight grip on reality, but I can't

Let go of what's in front of me here
 
I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up

Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream, whoa.

Only time will heal. But sometimes I don't want to heal,
not just yet. It's sad, but I'm also quite content with
longing. I guess once that stupid cupid enters your life
you're loathed to let it leave again.

Day Thirty Seven

It's odd that the only two things that I'm looking forward to are:
1. Wednesday
2. Getting my letter
And both happen to be related to him.

Sometimes I wonder that if he no longer fulfills the reciprocal requirements (i.e. by being sensitive to my feelings), then perhaps it is no longer my duty to be understanding. My feelings about him are like a see-saw and most of the time, the seat is falling down - on my side. Sometimes I wish that I could stop caring instantly so that I am longer burdened by trying to make him feel okay or no longer disappointed whenever he lets me down. It's hard because I'm used to having his shoulder to lean on when things get rough. But now he's the one that's making me feel sad. It used to happen sometimes during our relationship, but he used to also be the one who made me happy again. And now, he has no duty to make me feel okay, so the see-saw seat is now perpetually plummeting down to earth because no one's there to catch me.

I can't spend the entire day moping and feeling sorry for myself. But I'm also not okay.

Day Thirty Six

It's like a car... After talking to you, I'm all good for a few days. But then the tank runs empty and I have no choice but to wish you were still around.
Sometimes I just grin for no apparent reason, but usually it's because I remember something particularly funny. Like today, I was listening to Taylor Swift and all I could think of was you drumming along on Band Hero in your fluffy dog slippers.

It's odd baring myself like this. But I'm doing for two reasons:
1. It's an account of how a break up feels like for future reference should I go through this again
2. People don't want to hear about my misery and I don't have any inclination to force feed it down their throats. If I don't have a way of venting, I think I would dissolve into a puddle of tears.

Day Thirty Five

I can't stay mad at you for long. You know how to reason with me and also, because you know exactly what to say always.
It's always hard to rage when you describe me as the antithesis to your brother's girlfriend. It's hard to think about myself and my own needs when you say proudly that I am understanding and that is what makes you like me so. For now, I can't think of anyone else who is more deserving of my understanding. So I guess you can keep my feelings for a little while longer.

Day Thirty Four cont,

-insert further rage-

Day Thirty Four

-insert rage-

Day Thirty Three

I still have to logic myself into excusing you. The process is painful because I'm logicking myself into letting you put me back a few spots in your list of priorities.

Day Thirty Two

One day, I will stop chasing you.

I'm going to get better someday.

Day Thirty One

Today, exactly one month ago, I knew that the end was coming the next day. It's odd that he is exactly where he was one month ago, working. Fitting, even. One month ago, I was crying in the backroom, but trying not to let him know that him working on our last night together affected me so.

One month ago, we went out on our last date at Plato, enjoyed our last creme brulee, laughed over our favourite moments of our relationship, listed the highlights that made us work as a couple.

One month ago, someone still loved me. I wasn't alone, just yet.

Day Thirty

Today would've been another month. Today was also a test - but I figured out that he's still perfect to me and until that feeling passes, I won't be ready to date again.

He's still my best friend and it's good that way. He's like the habit that I don't want to quit just yet.

Day Twenty Nine

You're still my safety net.

Day Twenty Eight

Is it odd to be happy because of our friendship/pseudo relationship?
Actually, I'm just smug because I know we broke up over a good reason. And I laugh at those who break up because of petty fights and disagreements, as bitter and nasty as that may sound.

Day Twenty Seven

Ah, idle hands make mischief. Still unhappy on the odd occasions, but I'm slowly getting better.

Day Twenty Six

I've decided that I want someone who will want me as much as I want them. Someone who is willing to put aside things, someone who wants to share about their day, talk to me, not just do it because they don't mind doing it or because they haven't got anything else to do. Someone who is willing to have their life so intertwined with mine that they don't mind the fact that we're together always.

Day Twenty Five

But I still miss you like I missed you yesterday.
It's odd... In my mind, I think I've finally gotten around to re-wiring him as my ex. And I'm grateful that we're still talking, although I'm certain that once we're over each other, we'll probably stop talking. It's weird because I don't know how to treat him as a friend, as opposed to my boyfriend. Say we were friends and never were a couple. Would I be willing to visit him in Christchurch because our friendship is still worth it? Or am I only wanting to visit him because I still hope? One day when we're just friends and no longer missing each other, will our friendship be enough to keep us talking?

So, no. I'm not over him and won't be for a very long time. The day I'm truly over him will be when:
1) I don't mind the idea of him with someone else
2) I can honestly pick someone else over him
3) he isn't able to make me cry

Day Twenty Three and Twenty Four

I don't love you like I loved you yesterday.

Day Twenty Two

Working makes the pain less. But knowing that he wants to talk also makes the pain less. So I don't know what's really responsible.
I shouldn't think. He doesn't think. That's how he copes. But what happens when one day you start thinking and you're really not over that person? Better to realise now the cold reality than to continue wishing until you just wane away.

N.B. I've decided that him dying would be much worse. Just because I would never want to wish ill upon him.

Day Twenty One

Sometimes I wonder what is worse: the grief of never seeing someone again, or the grief of knowing that you will never share the same affection for each other again. At face value, if someone you loved were to die, it would seem much worse than never talking to them again. But at least you know that they're never going to walk down the street hand in hand with someone else, that they're not going to fall out of love with you.
I feel sad when I don't talk to him. But the next morning after I do talk to him also makes me sad because missing him is almost as bad as not being able to talk.
So begs the question: what would hurt less? Talking to him or never talking to him again?

For the nightmares of yesterday become the horrors of reality.

Day Twenty

My life is so empty and alone.

Day Nineteen

This is ice.
It cracks
you slip
but I drown.

Across the Nile;
a flood of tears
which rolls through
the barren land.

But I am alone.

Day Eighteen

I hate walking through town and seeing happy couples, hand in hand, arms intertwined. Happiness is subjective. You're only happy if someone else is miserable because there's an inbalance. If we were all happy, then no one would be sticking out from the crowd, ergo, no one would be comparatively happy.

The world should be just shades of grey without flashes of colour. Because then we all would be blissfully ignorant of the fact that things could be better.

Day Sixteen and Seventeen

It still aches. It's like a smouldering wreck and every once in a while, something is still burning brightly. The odd ember when you hear a certain song, when you remember a fond memory.
Talking is the only way I'm coping but it leaves me strangely hollow at the same time because I want more than words.

It's not a matter of wanting to give more. It's a matter of not being able to.

Day Fifteen

When you are no longer going out, one must realise that you are no longer a priority in his life.
One must also realise that he will not remember any significant events even if you remember all of his.
One must also realise that he will not seek you out and talk to you.
One must also realise that he will not reply to your messages.
One must realise that one must learn how to cope on your own.

Day Fourteen

Why is breaking up so hard?
Correction: why is breaking up while you still love each other so hard?
That in itself, is a rhetorical question and yet, I would still like the answer. I think the only reason why I'm dealing so far is because we're still talking every day. It helps but it doesn't remove the pain. Of course nothing does. The only cure would be catching the next flight back.

Or moving on. I'm not ready for that just yet.

Day Twelve and Thirteen

You popped the bubble.
I'm not okay
and life just drags me along.

Day Eleven

I am confused. There was a verbal preposition by him to "maybe play a computer game" later last night. So I waited around for a few hours online and he did not appear online. Finally too tired, I texted him saying that I was sorry, but I was simply too tired to stay awake. I wasn't mad or upset at him for not telling me not to wait up. The next morning, I get a text from him saying that he got held up... and then the text finished with "my bad".

My bad. What on earth am I supposed to take away from that? I was not mad that he didn't end up playing that computer game with me. Nor was I mad that he didn't tell me earlier not to wait up for him. The word 'maybe' is not binding. Nor do I have any expectations from him and so, he hasn't done anything wrong. So why end it with 'my bad'? If you were sorry, why didn't you say so instead? If you weren't sorry, why add 'my bad'? What the fuck is meant by 'my bad'? And why didn't you just finish with a 'goodnight' like you used to?

Day Nine and Ten

I don't know if I'm feeling better because I'm talking to him every day. I've finally been able to open up my iTunes without fear of hearing songs that may trigger sadness, although High School Musical and Backstreet Boys might do it, regardless of my efforts.
I thought this was appropriate:

Goodbye
Should be sayin' that to you by now, shouldn't I?
Layin' down the law that I live by,
Though maybe next time

I've got a thick tongue,
Brimming with the words that go unsung
Simmer then the burn for a someone,
A wrong one

And I tell myself to let the story end,
My heart will rest in someone else's hand
My 'why not me?' philosophy began,
And I say

Ooh, how'm I gonna get over you?
I'll be alright, just not tonight
Someday, oh I wish you'd want me to stay
I'll be alright, just not tonight,
Someday

Maybe is a vicious little word that can slay me
Keep me when I'm hurting and make me,
Hang from your hands

Well, no more,
I won't beg to buy a shot at your back door
If I make it at the thought of you, what for?
It's not me anymore

And I'm not the girl that I intend to be,
I dare you darling, just you wait and see
But this time not for you but just for me,
And I say
Ooh, how'm I gonna get over you?
I'll be alright, just not tonight
Someday, oh I wish you'd maybe stay
I'll be alright, just not tonight,

Someday, say it's coming soon
Someday, without you
All I can do
Is to get me pass the ghost of you
Wave goodbye to me
Won't say I'm sorry
I'll be alright
Once I find the other side of someday

Ooh, how'm I gonna get over you?
I'll be alright, just not tonight
Someday, oh I wish you'd want me to stay
I'll be alright, just not tonight,
Someday

- Sara Bareilles 'Gonna Get Over You'

Day Eight

I still feel sad sometimes and check my phone too frequently for it to be healthy, but I think I'm slowly recovering. Sometimes I just don't want to recover because it means I'll forget. And I don't think that would be fair because being with him was possibly the best two years of my life so far. So a small dose of sadness is still reasonable. It'll be a long journey, but this marks one small step. I know that I'm going to be sad again, but I'll take whatever small victory I can get.

Day Seven

You know how some people are just so damn happy that they get on your nerves every time you see them? I can now see why they attract instant irritation. Especially when you feel like shit.
Except, today's shit isn't as bad as how I've felt for the past few mornings. I don't know if it's because I'm just so sleepy from watching Grey's Anatomy till 2:30am or because I am possibly starting to climb out of this pit of self-pity. Oh look, a pun.
Actually, I think I know why now. Damn. I don't think I'm climbing out any time soon.

Day Six

Funny how fast the anger fades when you think about things logically. Similarly, it's almost funny how anger always fades back into sadness. Not being his girlfriend means that I no longer have a right to expect that he will reply to every single thing that I send him, that he will not always talk to me every day, that he will not talk to me when I see him online. It's almost ironic. When we were going out, I would never reply, never care if he didn't. And now it seems almost the opposite; because now I am just hanging on for any sign from him.

I am ashamed to say that I hope that he is as sad as I am. Definitely selfish. But it reassures me also because otherwise I am left to believe that even after two years, I am now nothing to him. And for that, I am sorry.

Day Five

You know the stages of grieving and acceptance? I wonder where I am at now. Possibly somewhere between denial and grief. Possibly with a touch of anger. One thing I know for certain: time is just slowly dragging me along. It feels odd not having a single thing to look forward to. Or anything that makes you want to delay time. I can't look forward any more to the start of a new year, but I'm not dreading anything either because the worst has already happened.
I can't stop hoping, but I have to admit to myself that he's already gone, most likely forever. I don't know why I still feel the urge to talk to him every single night. Old habits die hard, I guess. It just annoys me because it feels like I'm the only one who sits waiting, dying almost, to hear a scrap from him. Unhealthy, yes. Desperate? Also an affirmative. But I don't want to keep on initiating.

I am just so fucking pathetic.

Day Four

Much of the same horrible feeling when I wake up. I think that I am slowly coming to the realisation that we have broken up. I want to continue hoping that one day we'll get back together again, but you seem pretty steadfast on getting over me instead. A dull ache fills me for most of the day which then gets sharp when I see things that remind me of you; a rubik's cube, kittens, steak on the menu.
I feel an overwhelming urge to talk to you, but it already feels like barriers and boundaries have already been set in place between us. I wouldn't call it awkwardness. Just some sort of unsaid law that stops us from saying what we really want to say to each other. So I'll say those words now: Three words, eight letters, followed naturally by I still miss you.

Day Three

The times that are the worst are when I wake up and right before I sleep. For now, I've stopped sobbing at random times during the day and the pain that was once really sharp is now slowly becoming a dull ache in my chest. It's like I have a hollow in my heart where you used to be that is just slowly healing.
I can't stop referring to you as my boyfriend in my brain, which clearly needs re-wiring. Sometimes I wonder if you feel the same way too. I just wish that I meant enough to you to consider an alternative, although I have no right to demand that of you. For now, I just miss you.

Day Two

You said to stop hoping.
I can't because hope is the only thing that is stopping me from collapsing into a spiral of despair. Every morning I wake up and all I feel is an empty hollowness where you used to be. Please don't blame me for trying to delay the knowledge that you are gone forever.

Day One

It's only been a few hours since I last saw you and we said goodbye to each other but I haven't stopped crying since this morning. Grief is a funny thing; you cry and feel like you just want to curl up into the foetal position. Then you go through a convalesence period, when you feel like you just don't have any more tears left and all the feeling you have left is a cold numbness. Then when you see something that triggers a memory, you start to cry again.
I feel so alone and isolated without you, knowing that I can't just call you and tell you everything that is on my mind. I can't even eat a meal without crying because I remember the way you divide up your meal into portions and eat each fraction slowly.
Part of me still thinks that when I come back next year that you'll be there to greet me. But then I remember that you're actually gone forever and you'll never look at me that way again.
I just want to come back and have you hold me together because it feels like every part of me has shattered and I can't find the pieces any more.

Eleven days

I'm sorry brain for thinking so much;
I'm sorry stomach for all the butterflies.
I'm sorry pillow for all those tears I cried;
I'm sorry heart for making you break.

But curse his cold heart and unfeeling ways.

Footpaths

I think it should be a crime for couples to hold hands while walking down a (narrow) street. They just take up twice the amount of room so you're forced to do this awkward sidestep shuffle. It's like "Oh hey! Imma gonna try to make you jealous 'cause I'm in such a blissful state with my other half AND sorry mate, please get out of our way 'cause this tandem bike ain't moving aside for anyone."
Eat. My. Faeces.

One month and a half...

... and I'm already having nightmares about it. I don't know what sort of wreck I'll be when it actually happens.

Thinking. What good does it do? Now I'm just a basketcase.

Hidden

Wrap each smile and enfold it away
within the arms deep in the recesses.
Those who pose within their gloss
only cheapen the beauty of subtlety.
The warmth inside each embrace,
little graze on my elbow when we pass.
Deep red roses now faded to ashen pale
lifeless but flourish in my mental vase.
I want to lock each of those moments
away from their prying eyes to see,
because in my dreams once in a while,
the way of my escape becomes reality.

Frozen

We're frozen in time, you and I,
a limbo of sorts so we can ignore
the inevitable that must happen.
There's no space for movement
for even the slightest disruption
will cause the ice to crack and melt.
My embrace is futile and desperate,
but eventually our frozen fingers
will slip from each other's grasp.
The icy cage inside my mind
won't thaw until the summer sun.
So those memories will stay until
one day the prison melts away.

(untitled)

I'm not ready to say goodbye
the summer sun has not come by for
I know my tears will dry eventually.
So until then,
please wait for the winter to pass
with its icy cold rain so I can
walk with you in step under shelter.
Wait till spring comes with flowers
and when they start to wilt and die,
only then will I lay my heart to rest.

Wilt

We were a beautiful bud just beginning to unfurl,
the days seemed long and stretched ahead of us.
Our hands would entwine like the vines beneath us
and we blossomed into brilliancy among the others.
Laughingly we ignored the dust that swirled around
but now I know the truth that must approach us
with an ever fastening pace as the days slip away now.
We will wilt away, you and me, as surely as all roses do
and all that is left of us will be nothing but dust.

Suddenly everything has changed

You promised that you'd try to care still
but each and every time we meet,
I can see the light dimming away slowly,
leaving only shadows on the footpath,
a ghost of what we used to be.
I'm sorry that I don't want to let you go
but I know that when we finally part
there will be only scar tissue left in my chest.
So let me hold you close just one last time
before your warmth disappears forever.

Happy 101

My thanks to lovely Luxi, whose wonderful blog (http://pretty-preoccupied.blogspot.com/) keeps me constantly wishing that I
a) could write as well as her
b) dress as nicely
c) had the money to buy some of those dresses that she puts on display

;) But no, I do appreciate the award :)

As it is, I don't have ten people to nominate. So everyone who reads this can consider themselves nominated.
The rules are as follows:
1. Thank the person who gave you the award
2. Name 10 things that make you happy
3. Pass this award to 10 other blogs and inform the winners

Onto rule number 2...
Contrary to what impressions you may have formed of me as a result of reading my dreary poetry, I am a happy person... (this does sound like a confession). Anyway...

1. Sharing a steaming hot white chocolate mocha from Starbucks with someone on a cold day and eating the top layer daintly with those wooden stirrers
2. Rain at night... I rather enjoy hearing the gentle pitter patter of rain on the roof...
3. Waking up on a Thursday morning. And a Saturday morning.
4. The quietness when one wakes up early on a snowy day and there is no one about... just a layer of fresh snow over everything you can see
5. Baking. The process and the planning of what to make
6. Walking through a field with blue skies above and there is no one nearby, so one can sing as loudly as one likes
7. When you finally look in the mirror after finishing your preparations for a ball
8. Knowing that friends are on their way over to have a talk that lasts well into the evening, full of laughter and conversation
9. Finally playing a piece of music on the piano correctly after weeks and weeks of practice
10. Walking hand in hand with someone... especially on a rainy day underneath the same umbrella

Ode to Planet X

You were such an oddity in the world
a different thing altogether that I simply
could not piece you together and understand.
I used to be the brightest star in your skies
but it is inevitable that I will become just another
white dwarf lost in the depths of memory.
I tried to keep you close in orbit around me
yet you drifted further away with each day.
But the time approaches where my gravity
will not hold you back any time longer and
you will be free to travel the universe once more,
your face will become a stranger instead of
one that I've smiled into each and every night.
As you escape the grasp of one solar system to space,
planetary etiquette demands that you lose
your name to simply become Planet (e)X.

Ache

Like a boxer who has been punched once too many,
I stumble back on my words and retreat away
to find myself some self preservation.
You dismembered my innocence and my love,
and left me with only hatred and spite.
There isn't much left to preserve of me,
just the embittered and shrivelled lump of flesh
that I used to call my heart.
But I wish you could rid me of my misery
and just kill me first before you go and
break my heart again.

Alone

Bright moonbeam in the night
illuminates a single lone shadow.
Alone is the moon in her resplendence
and alone I am in the darkness.

to tell, is to admit.
and even if i do tell
there is none to hear.

Chronos and music

The clock is a constant reminder of the days
that must be passed before the tune is sweet.
Minor in key, the melody is like a snake that
entwines in all the shell of my fragile mind.
The staccato beat and rhythm in my head
turns into a minum and then a semibreve.
Those jarring notes hold on for oh-so long
and only when they stop can I start to sing.

Penelope's Lament

Each stitch gains across the loom
and like faithful Penelope, I wait.
With each turn of the thread
I think of you and your smiles.
Every second that ticks by,
a beat,
a heartbeat in time.
I gave you my heart as moly
but you were enchanted all the same.
I'll sit here and weave as I miss you
but it all unravels with the silence.

I wish I could think forever
of those times that I laughed,
when you were beside me
and we were smiling as one.

Sadness seems to creep on me
and hang with such a long face.
I only wish that you'd stay
a little while longer with me.

woke up this morning in hope
but reality sat next to me

knocked down too soon
like a skittle down the lane.

i won't ask for much from you
only give me one more chance
to say my last goodbye.

- My legs are weak: Paloma Faith

Christchurch

he took my hand one day and told me
he was leaving
me disbelieving
and i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i
had to let him go.

her name was christchurch, christchurch
and she took his heart away from mine.
her name was christchurch, christchurch
she had poisoned his sweet mind

- with a little adjustment from me, but the original is Paloma Faith's New York. Sorry for not saying earlier! I only wish I could write like her (Lu, i completely and utterly recommend her music)

stargazer, heartbreaker... don't disappear

to find someone you actually love, who'll love you... the chances are always miniscule.



...
i don't think true love exists at all.

sail away on teary seas
tattoo the times we had
for my memories.

(untitled)

Torturing myself seemed the only way
but what hurt the most was your indifference.
I wondered if anything meant anything
and now I've realised that it all means nothing.

Actions are louder than words.

You'll do the things that you're required of
and invest in so much of your time.
I know the adage is the other way around
but sometimes I wish that your words
would be as loud as the actions that you do.
I thought I made peace with that once
but it seems that it has come back to haunt.
For I live in constant fear that one day
I'll have done too much for forgiveness
and despite the many words that I'll say,
the balance of the scales will tip irreversibly
the other way.

The happiness eater

I'd like to spit on your happiness and joy
for I wish to turn that curve the other way.
The day will come when you are no longer
a child of Sunday and full of blithely goodness
with a reason to have that ridiculous smile.
Until Wednesday comes along with a claim
I shall sit and wait for that day to leave me.

Note to self

must not watch movies even slightly scary before sleeping because going to work after no sleep is horrible.

Caged bird

Only a fool wanders into a cage
no matter how gilded it may be.
So like a caged bird that is caught
I seem to have caused myself grief.
No one sings unless they realise that
their misery is of their own doing.
For I know why the caged bird sings
a lament to its own stupidity
because there is nothing that it can do.

A new year

i almost forgot that the New Year heralds in New Year Resolutions. simply because i make them and then i forget them.
actually i used to something else on the first day of each year which i found a little more interesting. i would write myself a letter, seal it and then open on the very last day of the year. i for one, discovered that i have quite a lot to say to myself, which is funny because i spend a lot of the day talking to myself so you'd think i'd run out of things to say (i really should stop this practice because i get caught quite a lot talking to myself by randoms in public and they give me weird looks).

obviously, i'm not going to post my letter here because i'd rather not share the inner workings of my mind. but i hope you like the idea.