Dear stranger
Did you know that I carry these letters with me all the time.
Even when I have to leave the house, I contain them in this small bag-wallet thing which I store easily in the back of my jeans.
These are all bent up, and I guess I'm fine with it, considering these are never going to be seen by anyone.
At Least I hope so.
I'd been wandering that same street again, hoping to catch another glimpse of you.
Maybe I'd be able to hear your voice again, gentle yet strong.
I can't even comprehend the emotions that run through my mind when I remember the way you sounded.
I'm pretty sure that by now you must've noticed me, not in a pretty sort of way, of course, but in a weird stalkerish Kind of way.
But what can I say? I'm not to be blamed, its you who got me feeling this way.
I'm going to bed now, it is 4 am and the corners of your photo have started crinkling from the edges.
I wish I had of photo with you.
