2002-08-11 - 2:50 a.m.

Dear high elf, wherever you are,
if I sent this letter, you probably wouldn't even read it. You'd see my name on the return address and throw it out. Or maybe you would read it, out of morbid curiousity or just regular curiousity. Maybe you wouldn't even know who I was. Maybe you've forgotten all about me. Maybe that's exactly what I'm afraid of: you forgetting.
the thing is, I don't even think about you much anymore, until something reminds me. Just now, I was sort of reflecting on past relationships and I realized that while I've spent countless hours of my life trying to forgive the raincloud boy (and failing), with you, it's quite the other way. I want you to forgive me. For being scarred, for being scared, for taking so long to let you go. It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't really about you. Sometimes, I wonder how well I really knew you.
There is one thing: you are the only person, still, who has ever gotten me to open up about my issues with my father. So if there's no other reason why you came into my life, there is at least that one.
Our friendship survived for one full year after the romance ended before it, too, went up in smoke, almost unseen to anyone other than me. Did you care at all?
Sometimes, looking back, it's almost as if you weren't real at all, just a magical force that swept in and made me starry-eyed for two months.
In retrospect, I think the main reason the breakup shook me up so badly was that it was SO sudden... one moment we were living in our happy little sugar-coated world, and the next thing I knew, reality was closing in on us. Of course you saw it first, being the more practical mindedof the two of us. What could you do but throw me head-first into it for my own good? I understand now. I forgive you.
Forgive me?
Daisy.

Faery drawing by Brian Froud. Border pattern by Infinite Fish. Designed by Dust.