I am going crazy. I don't feel like studying but I am, don't you worry. I know Boards are important and that I have to.
You know the feeling when you can feel your heart ache? When you are so hurt that it physically hurts? That is happening and I have no reason to be upset but I think I am quite upset. Why else would it hurt so much?
I checked out your Holi photos. Every time I check your photos I realize all over again how different your daily life is from mine. I don't even know those faces or the names that go with them. Actually I have never even heard those names. Not a single one.
It also makes me feel a little distant.
Lats night, at 4 a.m., I felt like deep inside I've accepted...this. The present us and everything. Maybe that is why I feel "the pain in my heart" because deep inside I have accepted an end to something I never wanted to end.
It's all very colossal if you think about it. Soon your face will become a strange face in a picture. The further we go away from each other the closer you'll come to others. People I'll never know nor want to know. And then you'll drift away from them for the process to repeat.
It's all very tragic, this process of life. More so because you were one of the few I could picture throughout my life. Actually, Leo is the only non-family one. And then I saw you. But I see your sister too, there in my life, for a long time if not lifetime. That means who won't be incognito. CAN never be. And perhaps that's scare, to be in the middle, to never have you nor forget you, completely.
I think Stella is the name of my insecurities. But I also think that will stick for some time. But I also think that some things that I feel for her is genuine. You know those, I don't need to harp. Just that I do blame her for things I do not think she does, but I do it in the fit of my..fury, if you may call it so.
I don't even know what I'm trying to tell you. I'm a big baby with a bloopy-nose. And babies like when they are cradled, figuratively.
Just please do not call this a tact so that we can get back. Or say that you didn't notice it. Or that you didn't read it because it's too long.
That breaks a tiny fragment of me more than insult me.
She looked at the white sheet in her hands, rather amber in the glow of the flickering candle. The once spotless paper was now stained in a slanted black design. Her pupils where fixed on no spot in particular and the look on her face was not that of vanity, nor was it of concentration. It was one of those times when one failed to recognize one's reflection.
A single drop if wax trailed a line along the length of the burning candle and settled at its foot, forming a solid tiny lump on the chestnut table. The light flickered again, as if threatened, or perhaps to merely reveal better.
She put the pen down, crumpled up the sheet and cleared the table of it. She quickly got up and left without taking anything with herself.
A single black drop gathered at the tip of the nib and fell on the chestnut table. It formed a tiny liquid lump that reflected the light from the flickering flame and silently stained the beautiful chestnut table.
You know the feeling when you can feel your heart ache? When you are so hurt that it physically hurts? That is happening and I have no reason to be upset but I think I am quite upset. Why else would it hurt so much?
I checked out your Holi photos. Every time I check your photos I realize all over again how different your daily life is from mine. I don't even know those faces or the names that go with them. Actually I have never even heard those names. Not a single one.
It also makes me feel a little distant.
Lats night, at 4 a.m., I felt like deep inside I've accepted...this. The present us and everything. Maybe that is why I feel "the pain in my heart" because deep inside I have accepted an end to something I never wanted to end.
It's all very colossal if you think about it. Soon your face will become a strange face in a picture. The further we go away from each other the closer you'll come to others. People I'll never know nor want to know. And then you'll drift away from them for the process to repeat.
It's all very tragic, this process of life. More so because you were one of the few I could picture throughout my life. Actually, Leo is the only non-family one. And then I saw you. But I see your sister too, there in my life, for a long time if not lifetime. That means who won't be incognito. CAN never be. And perhaps that's scare, to be in the middle, to never have you nor forget you, completely.
I think Stella is the name of my insecurities. But I also think that will stick for some time. But I also think that some things that I feel for her is genuine. You know those, I don't need to harp. Just that I do blame her for things I do not think she does, but I do it in the fit of my..fury, if you may call it so.
I don't even know what I'm trying to tell you. I'm a big baby with a bloopy-nose. And babies like when they are cradled, figuratively.
Just please do not call this a tact so that we can get back. Or say that you didn't notice it. Or that you didn't read it because it's too long.
That breaks a tiny fragment of me more than insult me.
She looked at the white sheet in her hands, rather amber in the glow of the flickering candle. The once spotless paper was now stained in a slanted black design. Her pupils where fixed on no spot in particular and the look on her face was not that of vanity, nor was it of concentration. It was one of those times when one failed to recognize one's reflection.
A single drop if wax trailed a line along the length of the burning candle and settled at its foot, forming a solid tiny lump on the chestnut table. The light flickered again, as if threatened, or perhaps to merely reveal better.
She put the pen down, crumpled up the sheet and cleared the table of it. She quickly got up and left without taking anything with herself.
A single black drop gathered at the tip of the nib and fell on the chestnut table. It formed a tiny liquid lump that reflected the light from the flickering flame and silently stained the beautiful chestnut table.
