Dear Rye Bread,
I understand that this is like the fourth letter I've written to you. I'm sorry, but I just need some closure. I think about you ever single day. It's getting to the point where it's absolutely ridiculous. Well then again, it always has been with you. It bothers me that you haven't said a word to me, but you definitely talk about me with others, and the weird part? It's not even necessarily anything 'bad'. I wish I wasn't so stubborn. I wish I could've said the thousands of things that I held back. I feel like an idiot. I took everything we did together for granted. I'm sorry, but why should I be, you're the one who screwed up, right? That's besides the point though. I wish I could have built up the courage to say how I felt that day. By saying that day I mean, the day you said you had a 'dream'. Come on honey, that was NO dream, that was your thoughts speaking. I know you, but I didn't know myself well enough. I didn't trust myself around you, atleast not enough to tell you how I felt. I wish I had though. I wonder how things would've been today if I weren't such a coward.
Always,
A girl who's waiting.
About me
- ooweeitspreet !
- Everything written in this blog is explicit by the way being straight from the mind, transferred through words. I felt that people don't really know the other side of me. I'm not always the usual fun and games, I also get down to business with literature being one of my guilty pleasures. My opinions are blunt. I don't share my point of view too often, if you ask me politely though I'll surely answer you with ease. Truthfully, there's only a handful of people who I can actually sit down with and have a legitimate conversation with. No, not about mama drama junk, but the real life situations. Like, politics or what is up with the "whadupp" kinda stuff. I get down with the get down. I speak my mind. Get at me. Thank You.