 How long am I going to keep this up? How long am I going to be calling myself insane for writing to you when I know I'll end up throwing this false letter away? My dear Mallion, I'm at a dead end with my life. Not in the sense that I want to die, but in a manner that I'm lost in what to do. My life is the constant repetition of having my daily five glasses of Absinthe, my annual ten shots of whiskey, my endless gazing in the mirror and watching people walk past my apartment window.
What would have changed had you stayed with me? Completion. Constantly do I feel like something's missing. A feeling as if I'm always forgetting something. A hole in my chest that never goes away. And I've tried so many times to fill this empty void that you left me with. I've gotten pretty close too, however in the end I remain with the same emptiness.
Prusset has my soul now, but what soul did I have to begin with? The life in my soul went with you after you left me. I'm not angry, I undestand why you chose that path. But I regret holding you that first night in the gardens of the acadamy since it was then I made you my whole life. Some say it was young love, but it's been years and I still linger on the scent of your hair and the alluring sight of your emerald eyes. I'm aging ever so slowly, in most cases I should feel blessed for that, however all that does is prolong my thinking of you and my wondering of what could have been.
Absinthe.
 Madavra · Sun Mar 27, 2011 @ 07:24am · 0 Comments |
