To you; for you, you, you;
The breath in my lungs, the beat in my heart, the dreams in my sleep and my sun in the day.
I haven't spoken to you in almost a month, I think.
Time has become fluid, meaningless. It has passed though, for what else does time do?
I still do not know why you broke up with me. I've reached a certain level of peace with myself and with you. Let me sat this: I love you, as much as I ever did, and possibly as much as I ever will.
You don't feel the same, you have fallen out of love with me, you say. But that is ok.
My life was enriched beyond measure by having you in it, as was my heart.
I have important news. I can say with full honesty and belief, that i love myself. I thought that I would never arrive at that point, but i have.
I deleted your number, all 1,313 text messages that you sent me, I deleted all your photos. Not out of hatred or spite, but out of necessity. It was the only way that I could achieve closure that was badly needed.
I didn't thik of you for a while, as I had to think of myself. It helped. But you were, (and are), always in my heart and soul, and there, to some degree, you always shall be.
I feel no malice or ill-will towards you. Anything but these.Because those things would eat me, consume me. I desire that someday we will talk again, I believe that that day will come, but only once we are both ready.
"Like a vision she dances across the porch,
As the radio plays ....
Roy Orbison sings "For the lonely"
Thats me and I want you only..."
Words so insufficient, but yet so fitting.
Do you remember our time in Dublin? Looks of love, excitement at getting to know each other? Our flight to New Jersey?
Our lovemaking; beautiful and wondrous each time?
I looked back on all these things and every moment together with joy and a tinge of sadness.
Now, the sadness is gone. I revel in the fact that you were such a huge part of my life. You always will be, near or far, you are my Estragon, I am your Vladimir.
As always, I would talk/write forever. To what end? You, my love, my friend, my soulmate, are forever inside my soul.
Each particle of me reaches to you, every fibre yearns for you, each tear falls for you. And for me. And for what could have been, and what was.
Soulmate: My soul loves yours.
It's funny, it may not seem so due to the contents of this letter, but I am "over you" as much as I could ever be.
You are the Best Thing that ever happened to me, and I will sit, with love and fond memories and a bright blue rose, waiting outside The Auld Dubliner, Curly's and wherever else the wind takes my soul, waiitng, once more, for a simple twist of fate.
Yours, thine, mine; Ours.