Dear you,
I feel the need to apologise for bringing old relationships in the previous letter I sent you. It is because I am merely over my past, and I have already been putting too much pressure on you with all my stories. So I am sorry. However, for a minute I want you to imagine how sometimes we all need attention, like me sending you all these letters is attention seeking, so when someone gives you that, it's hard to turn a blind eye.
Today I will tell you something that should make this letter very brief. I have a hand injury that prevents me from writing too much, and the pain increases whenever I write more than 100 words. Can you imagine this? I was first told I had neuritis, but then I knew it was just an injury that should go away with time and care. I am telling you this because, like everything else, I want you to know. I want you also to know that I will never stop writing to you even if my hands turned numb and were burning with pain. I want you to know that I am willing to write you these letters until you notice me in that crowd you walk into every single day. I want you to know that I know you will be there someday, and that I will be there for you one day.
I want you to know me. And I want to know you. But first let me get these confessions over with, and you will read letters you will never again read in your life. And they will be yours and to you.
Yours faithfully and sincerely,
N.
I feel the need to apologise for bringing old relationships in the previous letter I sent you. It is because I am merely over my past, and I have already been putting too much pressure on you with all my stories. So I am sorry. However, for a minute I want you to imagine how sometimes we all need attention, like me sending you all these letters is attention seeking, so when someone gives you that, it's hard to turn a blind eye.
Today I will tell you something that should make this letter very brief. I have a hand injury that prevents me from writing too much, and the pain increases whenever I write more than 100 words. Can you imagine this? I was first told I had neuritis, but then I knew it was just an injury that should go away with time and care. I am telling you this because, like everything else, I want you to know. I want you also to know that I will never stop writing to you even if my hands turned numb and were burning with pain. I want you to know that I am willing to write you these letters until you notice me in that crowd you walk into every single day. I want you to know that I know you will be there someday, and that I will be there for you one day.
I want you to know me. And I want to know you. But first let me get these confessions over with, and you will read letters you will never again read in your life. And they will be yours and to you.
Yours faithfully and sincerely,
N.
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