Letters to Moggy.

•What is love?•

Dear Moggy,

I find myself in turmoil as I compose this unfortunate letter. You shall have to pardon me for my forgettery. Life has seemingly tied me down, and I've no place to turn. Moggy, I write to you because I seek your imprimatur. You have always been one with a changeless and calculating mindset, while others seemed slumberous and faulty. It is rather cool today, Moggy. The sun shines through the trees, and for one splendorous moment, my heart is at ease as I imagine myself soaring above the clouds. My cares are gone on days like these, as I lay in the grass, and gaze at the sky. I wish to forget every love I have ever had. All of them. Perhaps this is uncommonly narrow-minded, but I tell you I speak now out of the agonized chambers of my heart. What is love, but discomfort? Those who are brave enough to entrust their very being to another, are, dare I say, potently asinine. I must finish this later Moggy, but I beg you, do not hold deliberate choler against me. As I have written before, I only believe these things as of now because I ache.

Love,
Stray