Sunday, September 2, 2012

A Love Note

         It doesn't bother me that you will never see this. I don't mean to pretend that I am keeping all of this a secret. I'm not like that. Some things are meant to be seen by all, others are meant to be seen only by their creator. In that sense, I am God. Theses letters, the paper they are written on, are all the humble believers of my existence. Without any hint of doubt they accept my plan as fate. They keep me company. And their loyalty fills me with a sense of not only pride, but also narcissism. I am their one and only – the most important. As I write the letters on the paper, each greets me with a sense of anticipation. The letters proud that they stand for my word. The paper maintains the honor of supporting the weight of my ideas. Together they create a bond that lifts me above anything that this world can create.
         And you. You are the critic, the cynic. With a glance you make it all dissolve. You strike down my morale. The letters begin to falter, and the paper can no longer bear the pressure of my hand. Your eyes cast a look of doubt that shakes my every belief to its core. As I write I catch your gaze and feel my confidence wane. Each iris seals a ring of doubt around my mind, and your pupils probe my soul searching for my true aim. You are the Lucifer doubting my system. And your eyes are the renegade angels at your back ready to stand fast. From across the room you question my will and ability to hold my ground. For that, I hate you.









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