I never did write those letters. Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to and I wanted to pen my thoughts and feelings down. For some reason, I’ve been restless.
The thoughts that haunted me yesterday night still haunt me today, and will continue to do so tomorrow. You see, I have insomnia is not quite the .
I worry about the present participle and the past. I worry about an em dash and a hyphen. I worry about ironies and paradoxes. I worry about you, and me.
That relationship between lines and stanzas, between sentences and paragraphs, between introduction and conclusion, I wanted them developed. These are feelings, so genuine and raw.
I wanted these feelings to be clearly expressed on a clean sheet. I’d first start with a scribble, catch momentum along the way and eventually churn out a diarrhoea. I’d have them sanitised before getting them plastered and sealed. Finally, reaching you.
Except the letter was never written and it never did get to you.
“Charlie, are you happy?” Jen asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know like the warm guzzling feeling inside you,” he added. “Like you know the world cares and that you belong in it.”
“Well yeah, I guess,” I squeezed Jen’s hand. He squeezed back.
When we first dated, I never quite understood him. It was after a couple of months later, I realised he was different. Jen has a way with words. He is succinct yet very much verbose. He does not sugarcoat yet he makes you feel comfortable hearing the negative things, the bad stuff.
“Why ask?” I said.
“Nothing. Just curious.”
Lies. Jen was never curious. There is definitely something. But I know better than to question him. For me to know the truth, I just had to wait.
I am accepting suggestions on how I can improve and what directions I should take. I drafted this in December 2016. And I no longer have much juices left for this. But I guess, I will take things slow.
I think we have a lot in common.
And I thought we were of to a good start. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have felt that tingle down my spine when I first saw you, or the sparks that flew when our eyes met, or that warm feeling in the back of my throat when you grabbed my hands.
It’s both funny and enchanting to see you crease your brows whenever you picked a serious conversation. You’d look at me for help, but I’ll never understand nor will I ever interrupt.
We were never meant to be. Because if it wasn’t for me, you won’t be here. Yet something horrid happened one night, which brings forth a tormentous, spiralling turn of events. We met eventually, albeit in unfavourable conditions.
Really, we were really never meant to be. But our similarities outweigh and overpower our differences, and love, a curious thing it is, prevails.
So let me bid my last goodbye. This is all I have to offer and I’ve nothing more. Keep in mind that I’ll always love you and I’ll remember you forever in the back of my head.
Live well, stay safe, and be happy, my child.