Dear buffer,
Another letter, they seem to be becoming quite the habit. It’s been great. It’s been fun. It’s been just plain dramatic. I mean I have enjoyed it all the while it lasted, but I am frustrated.
I like you yet I can’t do anything about it. Some days you like me, and my world just seems to revolve around it, others you’re hot then you’re cold and that leaves me less bold. I must admit I have thought of us growing old, but I’m not sure our story gets that far told. I mean I can’t even see past the horizon of tomorrow where the sunsets on this chapter, and much seems to be pointing to a never ever after.
Yet in my heart of hearts, there’s hope against all hope, and while I’m thinking that’s dope, I realise I can’t really cope. I don’t even know what I am writing anymore, I guess I just miss you and it’s all that has to be said, how true.
I guess I can only list the things I’ll miss the most: the furtive wink, o thou single eyed blink, the 2 minute stare we share, and the envious glare all else bear..... So yeah..... *sigh*
I’m not going to call anymore, don’t expect a knock on your door but I wish you better years, ones absent of any fears and salty tears.
Again, was never really yours,
Boo boo.
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