Dear Journal,
Hello again. This isn’t the first time I have written to you and I am sure you feel you know me very well. You’re right. You know just about everything about me. Like how you knew I’d begin regretting cutting him off. Like how you know how good of an idea it actually is. How you know that my body shivelres up inside itself every time I think of someone touching my flesh with or without welcome. You know how much I love him. How much I miss her. I feel this is in vain.
Questions
How are you though? We talk a lot about me and I never get to really hear about your life. I feel your energy. Feel the weight of how light you make me, your beauty. Do you fully realize how beautiful you are? How much I went through just to call you my own? Do you know how I wish to be treated that way? To have someone go through something to call me theirs? To be taken wherever someone goes? To be wanted there? I want you like that? I bad with possessions though. Especially you. You don’t resent that do you? Do you feel how much you mean to me? How lost and sad I would be without you? Do feel how lost and sad I am beginning to feel without him? Am I wrong to feel that way? Do you know what I should do?
Current
Love, would be an understatement as well as an unnecessary cliché. Let’s say I lovvem you. That’s two v’s as in very, very and an “m” for much. You are important to say the least. An extension of myself. When I lost you. I felt phantom pains, tried to go on as though nothing had happen as we learn in situations of lost that we must. Why is it that we have to learn that? But I have never fully lost anything. Not even you. Not Reggie, not Jeremy, not Coby or Kyle. I have never known true lost. Except virginity. But does that really count? I’ve never had a run in with death or war that stole something directly from my home.
Society
in speaking war. in speaking of my heart and brain. you have been the bridge between the two. never has there been less causalities in war. we fight the war revolutionist have been looking for. The war where change equals growth and no one profit from the dying. We wage the war not fueled on the blood of Indians
Future
Hmm, in the next three minutes you will probably still be in my bag. That’s the future right? I kid, I kid, I joke, I joke. Alright listen. You will see me grow in slow motion. You will see me leave behind all the things that you’ve told me time and time again will only hurt me. You will see me confide as much as I always have and I will watch you beg me to learn my lessons quickly so that we can move on. You will watch me become increasingly more hard headed and continue never to learn my lesson and if I do, I will learn the same lesson at least twice. You will role your eyes when this happens and I will laugh and the fact that it has.
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