(no subject)
Dear Jim,
You gave me a fork and reflected in it was a reason to hate myself. You told me to hold onto it as i sat incapacitated by the fire you had built earlier in the evening. Grounded in reality by a silver-plated hand-me-down utensil; I feared you would leave me. If I could not hold onto my self-loathing, accepting myself faults and all, how could I expect you to come back to me and take care of me. Why should you love me and lead me out of the dark and into the warmth and comfort of the home we have made together? But I held on, vowing to change, and you took me by the arm, lay me down on the couch, and covered me with a blanket where I spent most of the night next to you.
Much love,
Janie
You gave me a fork and reflected in it was a reason to hate myself. You told me to hold onto it as i sat incapacitated by the fire you had built earlier in the evening. Grounded in reality by a silver-plated hand-me-down utensil; I feared you would leave me. If I could not hold onto my self-loathing, accepting myself faults and all, how could I expect you to come back to me and take care of me. Why should you love me and lead me out of the dark and into the warmth and comfort of the home we have made together? But I held on, vowing to change, and you took me by the arm, lay me down on the couch, and covered me with a blanket where I spent most of the night next to you.
Much love,
Janie