Monday, 20th of February 2012

Dear X,
 
  Lord, will this never stop? This blog is about you in the end. But I suppose it cannot be helped, and I might as well write things down now that I think them. For all my wish for oblivion, I fear it.
  So today I read some extracts of my other letters to you to a friend, let's call her Annie. Annie was actually quite rather surprised. She said she didn't have me for a romantic, at least not one so intense. After I read her those parts she fell silent, as if she were not sure what was quite the right thing to say.
  But then again, I'm not sure what is the right thing to say. So instead I write meaningless little post on an anonymous blog on the internet.
  God I wish you were here. That little smile of yours today made me so happy. And afterwards so infinetelly sad. Why is it that everything with you is in the extreme? I wish I could just be.
 
  And loneliness ate away her heart.

  I still remember sleeping in your bed during that trip. You were not in the room. You slept somewhere else. And the next day, you took me as I was, pajamas and all for breakfast. Said it was ok I didn't wear regular clothes.
  And afterwards, after you learnt something that had happened, I remember your anger. Not at me, I had nothing to do with it. By I felt it nevertheless, I could simply read you at that moment. For two people so distant, we understand each other very much. You read me too sometimes, better than anyone else does.
  Actually, that's not really helping.
  Some lingering glances of yours are not helping either. I don't understand you. Please take all the memories of you and go away. I don't know how to deal with you when I see you everyday.

Goodnight

P.S. Your arms were so strong around me that day I was crying for my friend's father. You calmed me. I can't believe we will never be more than friends.