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by pretty
Rated: 18+ · Letter/Memo · Emotional · #1754016
Self analytical letter written to my childhood sweetheart.
Hi…It's me again



I awoke thinking about you this morning and found myself with so many things in my heart to say. But yesterday at that moment I did not find the right way to speak these thoughts – perhaps it was not time. This morning, however, I awoke with you fresh on my mind and felt a strong desire to share with you.



I went out today and did a bit of shopping and then decided to go to a coffee shop after wards to get a bite to eat and do some reading at the nearby book store.  And while I was there, I thought of you. So I wanted to write you again.

I felt like sharing those little things that cross my mind or those little events in life that excite me.



It’s because that's the kind of thing I look forward to sharing with you. I look forward to being able to call you, drop you a quick email, or just message you about those little insignificant things that happened to me, but meant enough to me on some level that I just have to share it with you



I don't need you to think that my stupid talks are interesting and neat. All I need from you is to acknowledge that I think they are neat and give me the love and attention of sharing it with you. Because in the end, what I'm really sharing with you is my own response, my own excitement, and my own joy.



Yesterday was one sick day where I was irritated to the core. After I had finished my interview and got the result that I have cleared it I got a call from my ex- boss of my old office. He wanted to know what I was doing currently, whether I had found a new job for myself. He sounded kind of happy that I was still jobless. He asked me to join him again asking me to keep aside my personal hassles and ego. What I hated the most in his conversation was the casual look on his face. He made me feel as if I was the one who was missing out a lot by refusing his job proposal.





The last week or so, I've been rediscovering something about myself. I've rediscovered that I'm a resplendently intense person. Everything I do or say, I tend to put the full force of my heart and soul behind it. This means that every aspect of my life is filled with passion and intensity, burning just below the smooth surface, plainly obvious to anyone who wishes to look closely.

I've begun to realize that such intensity can be rather intimidating to a great deal of people. After all, we tend to live in a world that prefers to keep things light and superficial. And the level of intensity that I generate is antithetical to that preference. This is especially true when you consider that my openness and intensity tends to evoke similar reactions in those around me. To be honest, I think that response frightens a good many people more than my own intensity. It's one thing to see that in another person, but it's quite another to experience it in your own life.

The past couple of weeks have reminded me that sometimes, love involves pain. All the fairy tales in the world have done us a terrible disservice by lying to us about this stark truth. So many of us -- myself included at times -- go through life hoping that when we find true love, we will enter into the realm of happily ever after and never feel the pangs of heartache or sorrow again. So when we discover this lie for what it is, we often assume we've done something wrong.

I know better than this. True love will always involve heartache and pain. This is because we live as imperfect humans in an imperfect world, doing our best to share our lives and our hearts with one another. Mistakes are always made, and our openness and vulnerability allow those mistakes to wound us. To deny that fact is to deny our very nature and the very nature of love. This is especially true for someone who loves so freely and openly, someone like me.



Yours Forever

Poppy.
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