Unsent letter

Let me tell you a story, my friend. It is about you. I know you don’t like normal things, for the very first (I hope it, at least…). Also, I don’t ask to explain yourself – I’d rather reading you than having myself read. I need you to open your mind, and eyes… and heart. Stop falling on deaf ears, I need you here, by my side. Do you remember? For now, you are my muse. What does this mean? Who is this YOU, though? It’s not that simple, but I’ll try… to… confuse. Take a seat next to me to show you my unsent letter in the light of a purple candle. Come to see it melting – on our holding hands. I would take you far away from this reality. I can’t breath here. You are you as long as you stand for my darkest corners of my soul as well as chaotically touching my bloody heart, carring my joy, but also my sorrow, being given more chances that ever deserved; driving me insane when not knowing how to be serious, with a plenty of defects that I wouldn’t change; and never pleased – you’re never pleased. This is not enough for you, definitely. So… my unsent letter.   “Dear Sugarplum, I like you. I say it because I know that you wouldn’t ever take it seriously. And admire you for what you stand for. You are special, so special and immature in a mature way. Weird you… At the same time, I scorn the genuine profiteer from your inner. You are selfish, I wouldn’t be surprised if you believed yourself the heart of the universe – so egocentric. But not always… The stranger hidden in the shadow, that has a sweet side which offers a bouquet of flowers, with a shy touch – that’s you. I’m put down by a mere impulsive remark of yours that’s not always true. Then you take your word back and say you didn’t mean it. Why? What’s so wrong with… ? Huh… Contradicting yourself – it’s characteristic. I learnt to cope with it. Big dreams, minutiously thought, but you still have doubts about you. This lucidity… And this curiosity… This desire for scholarity. How can you do this? I like you, but you won’t take me seriously. You’re a person that I look up to, but also despise. As well as playing with my nerves, you can easily bring me a smile. I feel so… me. I wonder if there is a word for having all the feelings for only one person. Love and hate, Me.”

Ana Marda

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A doua parte: https://anamardaloescu.wordpress.com/2015/01/05/inception-of-burning-paper/

A treia parte: https://anamardaloescu.wordpress.com/2016/02/24/scrisoare-de-netrimis/

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About Ana

Voci, numai voci View all posts by Ana

2 responses to “Unsent letter

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