Dear little big foreheaded you,
Hi there, with everything that has happened for the past eight years (going nine), both good and bad, I have come to conclude that the idea of us being together is just virtually impossible, with this, I have also ceased the thought of moving on (another virtually impossible feat), a dilemma which I believe, brings about a magntitude far more greater than that of the aforementioned, one which I am having a hard time figuring out whether if it’s a good thing or not, however, this is a matter where which I do not ask of you to understand, rest assured, I’ll put my best efforts in trying not to be of a burden to you and at the same time give my all to become a being, whose presence is as faint as a miniscule dust floating about the air and be as profound as the sound of church bells clanging if ever the need arises. This is something I have decided to take upon myself and you may percieve it which ever way you may like it to be, I won’t blame you for it, I guess that is just how I am, for this I give my sincerest apologies.
Be not decieved though, the thought of trying again and again is the only thing I have forfeited, it is to my shame that I say, that I have given a try, most of the methods out there that could ultimately lead me, to finally be able to move on, but as I’ve said, all was in vain. I guess I am simply drawn to everything that you are, a development which by the way I think is bittersweet. Having said that, may I just add, that it has been great seeing you, I have been yearning to be able to see you again, since the last that we were able to, just as the earth yearns for the sky to rain during the long summer drought, my longing thirsts were quenched by the opportunity that arose, the opportunity to be able to spend time with you, even as just as a friend.
I am glad to see you change, a change that I percieve to be for the better, no matter how trivial it or it may not be, though I got to admit I am accustomed to the sudden transformation. I take it from your demeanor that you are happy, at the very least, you are doing better off than that of what you were the last time I saw you, a remarkable event that is as stunning as a Star Gazer blooming at the end of spring, it’s beauty, though late of coming, far more than that of those flowers whom have blossomed before her. Sadly, as beautiful as a flower may be, which ever type or form it may take, one fact remains, if a person is to cut a flower from its roots just to be able to take it for his own, the flower would slowly wilt and eventually die, I guess this is what I am going through, bound forever to gaze upon your fairness, withheld from the priveledge to own, after all, why would I want to see this flower’s refinement wither for my selfish wants. My only wish is for you to be happy, for as you should know, your happiness is my own. Nevertheless, I can still care from afar, as I have mentioned a while ago, as a friend (though it causes me affliction), just as a florist is to a wild flower, never cutting it from its roots to take it for his own, but caring for it with the best of ways he could, at the very least, until someone comes to take this flower, and care for it far more than I ever could do. “Oh how bittersweet this love is” a cliched line, one that has been used far more often than good, but I guess, one line, fitting to end this letter.