It has been very difficult for me the past few days, not hearing anything from you. I ask myself at nights when I cannot sleep if this is all worth it, and the world says this is not. I disagree. I'm always hoping the best for you, and this no longer needs to be said, because whether you know it or not, I'm always trying to smile knowing smiling is out of place. I love you more than ever is what I mean. Let me rephrase this: I hope my letters delight you. For even your reading them means so much to me. For even the shortest messages you give I keep. Do you deserve this much? No, no, everyone would say. They will say only I have been reaching out, and they could be right. I do feel neglected. Yet I cannot force you to change this, as it can only come from you. On a lighter tone, maybe that is why I'm here: to suffer everything and make you realize this change. I understand the need for space, and understanding and bearing this has become more difficult over the days. Times have never been harder. Then again, times have never been so much beautiful and meaningful. Do you deserve this much? No, everything tells me. And, again, I disagree. Am I deserving of you? I am hoping that I am, though chances are close to nil. I am hoping this suffering has a loving side, no matter how bleak.
I miss you. I'm doing okay.
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