DEAREST,
I don’t believe myself. So this happens when you get delusional and try acting normal, and brave, and carefree?
I should have denied this the moment I realized it might turn into something monstrous; it’s eating my soul completely. To hell with Newton’s third law!
These butterflies never give good inspiration. Never. I’m freeing them. Yes, I might need pixie dust to retaliate with what I have lost – time, mostly – I’m thinking of saying goodbye to the person I have become these past few days.
This is not healthy. And I suck at writing pieces like this. Because you see, it’s hard embracing truth. But of course, nothing is ever easy in this world.
So there, I’m not making sense. I think I’m back at loving Joseph Yeo or Lucas Brandon or Peeta Mellark again because of YOU. Remembering is a choice, and I choose to forget YOU.
If you’ll ask me now, (and no, I did not utter that prayer) I’ll say, “YES.” And you won’t dare believe me because that has been the trend. And I’ll have to laugh at myself and cry some other time to spare me the words I should have spoken.
I hate you. For making me write this for the first time in my 19 years of existence. I don’t know how much I have been trying to be happy wishing you happiness.
I have no idea how you end letters like this. So yeah, I promise to be cooler the next time.
LABLIN
