Of course this letter is addressed to you. You are the reason I’m in this mess to begin with.
Thank you for agreeing to meet me here tonight, I was not sure you’d gotten my message. To be honest, I was not sure you’d come. I have already ordered a glass of cynicism for myself, feel free to order anything you’d like. Just so you know, my heart is not on the menu tonight. It still needs to be fished out of the icy waters, thawed, and, fingers crossed it stays in tact to be laid out for display at the buffet table for our guests. Heartbreak always seems to cut the biggest chunk out of it whenever it’s on the menu, greedy little sucker. Of course, courage is forever late and therefore finds no more heart left. You came just in time, but on the wrong day. You always seem to come on the wrong days.
I’ve been toying with the idea of sending you this letter by mail, but I had to meet you. I had to see the look on your face when I ask you what the relationship is between you and losing? Don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about. He’s always nearby whenever you and I cross paths. Some days he pretends to be you, and I’m left here holding on to every goodbye, every lonely night, and every tear stained pillow. He always seems to take you away. So, next time you come knocking at my door, you better make sure you were not followed.
I want you to come alone, leave my experiences and my expectations behind, they always seem to blur my vision of you. You are forever getting lost in their midst. God knows I want to find you sometimes.