Dear you,
I haven't written you in so long. I do not know what has been keeping me.
It's past midnight here and I have a very deep and strong urge to write in Arabic, or to just write. Yet here I am writing in English again.
The good news is I am in contact with a well-known publishing house and hopefully they will review my Arabic book soon after I send them the manuscript. Chances are they may reject it; however, I have so much faith. I am done with the book, or at least I have no other words to add. My words now are not as meaningful and deep as I thought they would remain. I feel like a chameleon; I change colors to match my surroundings and yet I am never myself, because I am always surrounded.
I miss you.
I am emotional this week.
It is the 5th of November. The month of rebellion. (I fear December.)
I have a very difficult assignment for next week to write a letter to someone telling them everything I need to say but never could. I know this letter will be a failure because I cannot write everything, but the bright side is no one will read it except for the person who asked me to write it, and she is not the real addressee.
No one is as real as you. I know that.
---
Will you forgive my wordlessness and desire to write you so much in so little?
Yours faithfully and sincerely
and truly,
N.
I haven't written you in so long. I do not know what has been keeping me.
It's past midnight here and I have a very deep and strong urge to write in Arabic, or to just write. Yet here I am writing in English again.
The good news is I am in contact with a well-known publishing house and hopefully they will review my Arabic book soon after I send them the manuscript. Chances are they may reject it; however, I have so much faith. I am done with the book, or at least I have no other words to add. My words now are not as meaningful and deep as I thought they would remain. I feel like a chameleon; I change colors to match my surroundings and yet I am never myself, because I am always surrounded.
I miss you.
I am emotional this week.
It is the 5th of November. The month of rebellion. (I fear December.)
I have a very difficult assignment for next week to write a letter to someone telling them everything I need to say but never could. I know this letter will be a failure because I cannot write everything, but the bright side is no one will read it except for the person who asked me to write it, and she is not the real addressee.
No one is as real as you. I know that.
---
Will you forgive my wordlessness and desire to write you so much in so little?
Yours faithfully and sincerely
and truly,
N.
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