Friday December 21st 2007, 4:37 pm
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

To the spaces,

Today the sun set brilliantly. Feeling lost in its diminishing rays, I was clouded by its clarity. Today is November 20th; today is just another passing day. We are the passer-bys, rubbernecking the sun set, staring into its space. I messaged you last night when I was drunk with giddiness. I may have even signed my message with the words “I love you”. When I woke up this morning, I regretted my actions. It’s been a long time since we’ve spoke, yet I still feel connected to you. When will we be divorced, I wonder? If we continue living our separate yet connected lives, we will never be free from one another. Everyday I find myself questioning my current circumstance, yet I never come to any conclusions. It’s probably better that way. Thanksgiving is just around the corner. The holidays will be here soon. Our anniversary is the next major celebration on my calendar. I’m not sure what I’ll do to celebrate. I have dreams about suicide, but I don’t talk to anyone about those macabre thoughts. The other day at the office, while in a board meeting, while having my work critiqued, all I could imagine was slicing my wrists open vertically. My mind flooded with images of blood pouring onto the table. My co-workers, not knowing how to handle such a traumatic situation, were frozen with fear. This vision cheered me up for an hour or so. Mindy, I’m trying to do well; I’m trying to make others happy, to make myself happy. I’ve been trying to make art as well, but I find myself sidetracked with social stimulus, which deters me from being as prolific as I would like to be. I feel like no matter how friendly I am and no matter how joyful I make others, I never make them joyful or happy enough. I fool myself into believing in my reflection. It’s silly to create your own image through other people’s comments and critiques. But humans do this all the time. I think I will take a nap now. Goodnight love.


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