Mind-Blowing Vs Soul-Killing Ideas

Dear you,

How amazing is it to listen to someone you love talk for hours without getting the slightest feelings of boredom? It's because of their insane ideas. Because the sanity and mediocrity of ideas in our world have become so goddamn soul-killing that no one wants to live anymore.

Write me an insane idea, and I'll tell you one in tomorrow's letter to you. Promise.

Yours faithfully and sincerely,
N.

Injuries inside out

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.

With Love

Dear you,

I am sorry I haven't written any letters in the past few days; it's just that I had two big weddings coming and I had to help the family and friends. Yes, a wedding; you read this correct. I know you probably think by now that I am such a miserable lady whose career goals in life is just to whine up for a living, right? But I'll give you the benefit of doubt and assume you didn't.
It was a hectic week, and yet I spent a night over at my cousin's a day before the wedding. I was so tired that I felt like I was hung over or something in the morning. Anyways.

I don't know what to write you, but I'll try. I have a friend, who may be more than a friend at times. We have this relationship where we sometimes just cut all ties loose, maybe for two months, and then go back to those long, long phone calls to talk about almost anything and everything. I don't get us, and I pray to God I remain like this and not think it something of any seriousness, because most of the time I am so fragile when it comes to him.
I don't know why I'm telling you this, you being the carrier and keeper of my letters, to you, but I guess I want more than letters to you; perhaps honesty. I won't deny that I have never ceased to like the guy, but I also won't deny that getting attached to people has never made me happier, at least people other than you.

But they say that the more you talk about someone you like, the more you'll get attached and find it harder to let go of the idea itself. So I promise you this is the first and last time I am talking about him. Just so you know, and for the sake of honesty. And for the sake of plain and naked honesty, this is Mohammed Donia we're talking about. Now let's end this here forever.

There is a reason why some feelings are better left inside, because they remain beautiful there.

Yours faithfully and sincerely,
N.

Dissociating realities away

Dear you,

I have been escaping reality and hard work way too much than normal recently, not to mention the letters I write you, which are also a coping mechanism through escape, or the other way round, not sure really.

I have been better, in terms of dealing with pain or accepting it. It just feels like I am no longer accepting it in the first place. I don't cry; I only dossociate from reality, or detach, willingly and voluntarily. I realise it's not the right thing to do when faced with too many realities, but it's just too much.

However, let me mention something a bit normal tonight for a change of tone; I had a good day today. There is this slight feeling that I want to read again like before, or that I at least want to take my mind off life using a sane and wise method or hobby. And I really need to stop making my hand injury an excuse for all this laziness, right? Oh, by the way, did I even tell you before about the injury? If I didn't then I am sorry; sometimes you just seem to be an inseparable part of my life or that you live inside of me, that way I don't have to tell you about everything per se, because you're already part of it.

But remember; I still wait for you. I am still waiting for you and I have faith in you more than anyone in this world. And no matter how much it takes or how many years it will take me to finally find you, or for you to find me, I will be ready to be head over heels for you, because, after all, why am I writing all of this?

Yours faithfully and sincerely,

N.

To You

Dear you,

I was thinking all day today about you; how I am so ungrateful to your presence in my life, and how I only let it out on you when I am so disappointed, down, or angry. So, this letter is dedicated to you and only you, to thank you, for being there for me, for reading all these sad and lonely words with so much patience and faith. I want you to know that I am happy with you in my life.

Just until you come. Please, come.

I love you.

Yours faithfully and sincerely,
N.

Until You Are My Hero

Dear you,

I am sorry I left you a sad and abrupt letter last time; it's just that sometimes life is hard enough, and words are so devoid of meaning. So you just write as little and as meaningful a sentence as possible, hoping for no judgments, no filler words, nor unnecessary consolations. You just need silence, a pure and deep silence with an "I understand" and nothing more.

I am sorry because I never told you before how much getting personal about a terrible dad can be very tough and challenging. This is why most of those who go through the same shit I have rarely speak about it, because who the hell will ever understand something they've never been through. And while girls are all about "my dad is my hero" pictures all over media, i just sit there and wait for this shit to be over so I can live normally accepting the fact that I will never have a hero dad, or even a dad I never wish to bid farewell to.

I am sorry if this is getting too personal even for you. This is why I am taking things very slowly, so that by the time you really know me you will have grasped everything about my life without rushing. So that everything will be said at the right times. And so that, when you come to me for good I will tell you you are my hero, my first hero, and I want no other heroes but you in my story, in my life.

I love you, until you are my hero; I will give myself to you.

Yours faithfully and sincerely,

N.

Full Truth

Dear you,

I have an impossible-to-like dad.

I am sorry.


Yours faithfully and sincerely,
N.