Dear,
I'm sorry to say I was never in love with you. I was in love with the idea of you. An intimate relationship with you was forbidden and you seemed so tempting at the time— I couldn't reject the thrill it provided.
I thought I loved you. And despite what I forced myself to believe, the truth was that I couldn't ever find myself ever being more than just friends with you.
And honestly you meant nothing more to me than being my first. The worst part is I never once regretted the decision I made. In fact, I regretted not making it sooner.
And even after I was gone you still haunted me with guilt and treasures that I refused to accept. Because I did everything you asked of me. And all I wanted was the simple truth.
YOU ARE READING
My Dearest
PuisiThese are personal letters written to those I've loved, letters by which by no means are ever to be read by who they are intended for. Also rant/vent in here occasionally. I don't want comments on those chapters.
