Melle barad - a Elbereth
3:24 p.m.

Chere -

I wish I could talk to you, even if just for a moment. I just want to look into your eyes, to touch your hand. If I knew for sure that you couldn't love me, I could walk away and be content with my affections. It's this far off yearning that's hard. After a while you give up hoping; you just need to know.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see your eyes or your smile. I didn't know I could love someone that much, that it would spill out that way. In a fashion, I'm glad that loving you isn't a choice I had to make. I'm not sure I would have, and it brings me so much joy between aches. Look - you reduce me to cliche, and I always prided myself on my writing. I can't use my words; I fumble and fail.

Funny how love sneaks up and takes hold of you. Rather like a pit bull, I suspect. It doesn't seem to want to let go. Dynamic static state I'm in, love, and it's all your fault.

Thank you.

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