Letter No.3

This is about the bad days.

Hello, Old Friend.

You always said for me to tell you if things were getting bad again.

And they are.

So here I am.

The most annoying part is, I was doing so well after we last spoke. The dissonant clashing of my mind and body had begun to calm, and for a while, everything was fine. But I've had a lot of time to myself recently, and having this time is the equivalent of leaving a tiger trapped in a cage with it's prey; however hard the prey runs, in the end, the tiger will always gobble it up. I tried, I really did, but soon things started to slip again, and the bad days started to outweigh the good days, and I didn't know what to do. Right about now, you'd tell me to put my arse in gear, make me a cup of tea, and we would find something to laugh about. But right about now, I'm sat on my bed, the seconds hand on my clock stuck on the same second forever, my head stuck on the same thoughts forever, and I although I used to enjoy the time alone, I'm becoming fearful of the loneliness. I know this is temporary, and I know that this will pass, but honestly, right now I cannot see one minute, one second, into the future.

I seem to be dwelling on our memories instead.

Remember me, for we shall meet again.

Thank you,

Me.

Reviews

[Mark Mendoza]

Honest and well spoken . Cheers