I could have, but thought better of it. I realize that pretending to talk about my troubles in a lightly manner would make it easier for everyone else to forget about it faster. And I need them to forget about it.
I couldn't handle it if they wanted to talk more about it. Talking makes me nervous since I am a firm believer of "speaking the truth".
But I believe in so many things so it's probably best that you don't take me too seriously.
A dear friend had said to me during the weekend, how he'd like to care for me but don't know how. I told this to my sister and she laughed. She said, "tell your friend; 'join the club!'. I've been trying for so long and still haven't figured it out."
I find that statement funny... and sad at the same time. It's not like I'm trying my best to be complicated, I just.. am. Believe me, the conflicts in my head.. I wish they were simpler.
Getting back to that letter..
It has always been my mode of communication with anyone. If I had wrote something for you particularly.. It must have meant something. I remember as I was growing up, everybody had reminded me of the letter I had wrote to my dad when I was little. I don't remember exactly what it was that I wrote but everybody just said that it was.. deep for a little kid.
Thinking about it.. probably I was meant to write things up ever since I knew how to hold up a pen. heh!
Anyway.. the reason I couldn't let the intended receiver to read my letter was because I couldn't stand the thought of how this person would reread every word that I wrote. As Plato had said;
I am trying my best by not loading my troubles to anybody else. I hope at least, that that would count for something.
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