Writing you a letter is inherently pointless. I doubt you’ll fully read this. I can waist this entire first paragraph on pointless things and you’ll never actually know what this letter is addressing. The point is that I did need to address it even if we both know all of this already. Think of it as getting my thoughts in line and knowing where my thoughts and feelings are. Yes, I mentioned feelings. Slowly I am unraveling the point of why I even wrote this. I should also note that this letter took me about two and a half weeks to write. No, this is not the first draft and it’s not even the tenth draft. It takes a lot to get everything in order and make you everything is more than clear.
Now that I think I’ve wasted enough of our time avoiding the topic at hand, I’ll start getting to the point. It’s sort of awkward to just jump straight into the point without at least leading to it so you’ll have to deal with a bit more of the boring stuff, bare with me here.
When I first met you, I was out of luck, time and life. Everything happened in a whirlwind and I didn’t expect to make it past that battle. It wasn’t a great way to live, but at that point I was losing the will to care. When you showed up, I honestly had no more faith in it than if you weren’t there. Laying there in the sand and reflecting on the result of what was said and what you did, I thought you were crazy. What kind of man would it take to help a person that was on intergalactic death row? You spoke of crazy dreams and had these eyes that were always looking ahead into the future. Sometimes those eyes would look at me, all of me, and I would feel bare, naked, exposed. I think the weirdest thing about it was I never minded it. Of course there were times where I wanted nothing more than to hide everything I am. You would understand. I wouldn’t have to do or be anything at all. That welcoming feeling you had never changed.
I think I still got a bit off topic there. Whatever. It’s pointless to go and change it now. I told myself I would settle with this one no matter what mistakes occurred. Now where was I -- Yes, the point of this letter. My feelings for you run deeply. It’s just plain stupid to talk about these types of things. I really should just come out and say that I may be fully in love with you, but that’s a rather scary thought. I wont trust myself to say something like that, so I want to leave it at I want to be, and promise to be by your side. I want to see you achieve this dream and I want to experience what you choose to do afterward. It’s more than my pride and the feeling like I owe you my life and loyalty. At first I was guilty of feeling that was and saying those things for those reasons, but no longer. The things I feel are of personal cause.
I’m not really good at this type of thing at all. I thought it would help put things in perspective, but in the end it seems like I only got myself more lost in meanings than I thought I would have been before I began. If you make it this far into this letter, Why the hell are you still reading it? It’s jumbled, horrible and makes no sense anymore. I’ll just end it and save is both the trouble right now.]
[as you most likely predicted, the actual reading of this letter ended FOUR sentences in and skimming began. all I got out of this was "naked", "love" and a lot of confusion]
Dear Marvelous,
Writing you a letter is inherently pointless. I doubt you’ll fully read this. I can waist this entire first paragraph on pointless things and you’ll never actually know what this letter is addressing. The point is that I did need to address it even if we both know all of this already. Think of it as getting my thoughts in line and knowing where my thoughts and feelings are. Yes, I mentioned feelings. Slowly I am unraveling the point of why I even wrote this. I should also note that this letter took me about two and a half weeks to write. No, this is not the first draft and it’s not even the tenth draft. It takes a lot to get everything in order and make you everything is more than clear.
Now that I think I’ve wasted enough of our time avoiding the topic at hand, I’ll start getting to the point. It’s sort of awkward to just jump straight into the point without at least leading to it so you’ll have to deal with a bit more of the boring stuff, bare with me here.
When I first met you, I was out of luck, time and life. Everything happened in a whirlwind and I didn’t expect to make it past that battle. It wasn’t a great way to live, but at that point I was losing the will to care. When you showed up, I honestly had no more faith in it than if you weren’t there. Laying there in the sand and reflecting on the result of what was said and what you did, I thought you were crazy. What kind of man would it take to help a person that was on intergalactic death row? You spoke of crazy dreams and had these eyes that were always looking ahead into the future. Sometimes those eyes would look at me, all of me, and I would feel bare, naked, exposed. I think the weirdest thing about it was I never minded it. Of course there were times where I wanted nothing more than to hide everything I am. You would understand. I wouldn’t have to do or be anything at all. That welcoming feeling you had never changed.
I think I still got a bit off topic there. Whatever. It’s pointless to go and change it now. I told myself I would settle with this one no matter what mistakes occurred. Now where was I -- Yes, the point of this letter. My feelings for you run deeply. It’s just plain stupid to talk about these types of things. I really should just come out and say that I may be fully in love with you, but that’s a rather scary thought. I wont trust myself to say something like that, so I want to leave it at I want to be, and promise to be by your side. I want to see you achieve this dream and I want to experience what you choose to do afterward. It’s more than my pride and the feeling like I owe you my life and loyalty. At first I was guilty of feeling that was and saying those things for those reasons, but no longer. The things I feel are of personal cause.
I’m not really good at this type of thing at all. I thought it would help put things in perspective, but in the end it seems like I only got myself more lost in meanings than I thought I would have been before I began. If you make it this far into this letter, Why the hell are you still reading it? It’s jumbled, horrible and makes no sense anymore. I’ll just end it and save is both the trouble right now.]
I'm serious. Burn it.
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I got the important parts.
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[... oh was I supposed to keep holding it]
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[This is me shrugging it off. Not concerned at all. Nope.]
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Oi.
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Yes?
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