Friday August 04th 2006, 4:17 pm
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

Dear Child,

The day has barely begun and already my thoughts are whirling about Ė they are so proactive. Despite this heightened mental activity, my recent dreams, I must say, involve an unusually high level of monotony. No matter the subject or plot, there seems to be a meta-narrative simultaneously existing throughout the whole night. You are there, in my dreams, as always. And thus I wake-up each morning, thinking about you. Sometimes I recall wonderful instances in our past: Other times, I focus on the pain this has caused me. Either way you are the center of all the energy that comes out of this banal meta-narrative. But the day is beautiful, dear Mindy. The sun is shining brightly and the temperature is somewhere in the 80s. Itís a lovely day, Love. I wish you were here, physically, to play with me today, but instead you sent your memories to play with my emotions. Even though I feel anger, rage and sometimes hate, I still love you. Oh, Iím sorry, I didnít mean to say that this early. [Awkward pause] Letís move on, you know, like how you moved on from me. Yes, thatís where weíll goóYou didnít love me, long before we broke up. You were comfortable with me, which obviously caused you problems, which led to you not wanting to have anything to do with me. PLEASE STOP LYING TO ME ABOUT THIS. I could feel the discontent you had for our marriage. Just because I can logically describe your emotions doesnít make me wrong. Yeah anyway, the day is lovely. And I venture into it alone, ready for anything and nothing.


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