I don’t know who to address this letter to or what kind of
love is meant because there are quite a few people that come to my mind.
Dear -,
I have written letters to you in the past indirectly in the
form of poetry. Some of the poetry is in forms of folded paper in my ‘experience
folder’, some of it is scribbled away in notebooks and some of it is ingrained
in my heart.
I often reminisce about certain experiences and if there was
something I should have said or done differently; or if I should not have
mentioned my feelings at all, for that matter. I sometimes wonder if I would
have been a better person in a given situation or someone you would have
trusted more if it were not for the uncertainty of emotion and the hesitance of
inflicting unwanted pain.
There are times when I think about how chaotic those years were.. how I had
no idea what I was doing (I don’t think I even know that now to be honest) but
I know that what I felt was real and pure and that’s all that mattered.
I correlate you with some changes that occurred in my life that certainly define me now. You, amongst a few others, were one of the first people to fuel my curiosity and interest in the world around me in terms of art, literature, revolution, culture, music, politics, independent thought and so on.
The way you used to write would leave me completely breathless. I’m not sure if it was due to the fact that I felt exited each time you used to send your writing my way or because of the immense and raw truth of that which was being depicted. Maybe it was a combination of both.
I remember sometimes looking at you from afar, feeling vulnerable about the way I felt and not being able to believe a person could hold so much beauty.
Sometimes I get this yearning and feel as if I’m missing out on some of the things going on in your life. There are moments where I worry about you and wonder if you’re okay. Simultaneously, I’m scared that I will ultimately lose track of who you become and vice versa.. but I smile because I know you’re out there making your way and gaining those experiences we so often spoke of back then.
I hope you’re doing well.
Love,
Marilena
I correlate you with some changes that occurred in my life that certainly define me now. You, amongst a few others, were one of the first people to fuel my curiosity and interest in the world around me in terms of art, literature, revolution, culture, music, politics, independent thought and so on.
The way you used to write would leave me completely breathless. I’m not sure if it was due to the fact that I felt exited each time you used to send your writing my way or because of the immense and raw truth of that which was being depicted. Maybe it was a combination of both.
I remember sometimes looking at you from afar, feeling vulnerable about the way I felt and not being able to believe a person could hold so much beauty.
Sometimes I get this yearning and feel as if I’m missing out on some of the things going on in your life. There are moments where I worry about you and wonder if you’re okay. Simultaneously, I’m scared that I will ultimately lose track of who you become and vice versa.. but I smile because I know you’re out there making your way and gaining those experiences we so often spoke of back then.
I hope you’re doing well.
Love,
Marilena
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