Dear John,
I have a fear in my heart. Every passing second, makes me wonder, how you are. Should I start this letter, by telling you how much I love you? Or how much I miss you? Or how your voice assures me of better times to come? But as the days go by and weeks rush on, I could only think of the time we spent together. I never told anyone about us, because, they would only think of our time together as a by-product of a short time together. A "fling" that in the long run won't mean anything. They would never understand. In my mind, I would replay those moments, those words. When you told me to play by ear and not by heart, I knew you meant well. You never wanted me to feel pain, or get hurt. But I could never find it in my voice to tell you that even hurt, can come in two forms: intentional and unintentional.
I miss you. And someday, I could only wish that your hand, is in mine.
With much love,
Savannah Lynn
I have a fear in my heart. Every passing second, makes me wonder, how you are. Should I start this letter, by telling you how much I love you? Or how much I miss you? Or how your voice assures me of better times to come? But as the days go by and weeks rush on, I could only think of the time we spent together. I never told anyone about us, because, they would only think of our time together as a by-product of a short time together. A "fling" that in the long run won't mean anything. They would never understand. In my mind, I would replay those moments, those words. When you told me to play by ear and not by heart, I knew you meant well. You never wanted me to feel pain, or get hurt. But I could never find it in my voice to tell you that even hurt, can come in two forms: intentional and unintentional.
I miss you. And someday, I could only wish that your hand, is in mine.
With much love,
Savannah Lynn
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