Dear Stranger,
Over the next few months I will be writing to you and I hope you will read what I write. I do not wish for you to reply or write back, it is for this reason that the envelopes have no return address. I do not wish for you to know who I am and I hope you don't try to search for me or figure out who I am, after all that would defeat the point of me writing to you.
We were once very close I'll tell you that. We were friends once.Then lovers. Then nothing at all. I thought at the time that your departure from my life would signal the start of something different and in all fairness it did but this different wasn't the good kind. You left as my life started to slip slowly through my fingers.
When we knew each other before we became separate entities altogether I was ,on reflection, at the highest point I'm my life. My cascading fiery hair had not yet began to escape my body along with the spark and fire I used to posses within my personality. Dullness is now much a part of me as anything as is. The dullness faded away my already pale skin and left it a sickly grey.
By this description I do not mean for you to feel sorry for me, I don't really feel sorry for myself. I can't escape this fate and I wouldn't want you to feel bad about that. The point of this is to show you how the time passed since I last saw your face and heard your words outside my very own mind. I think about you a lot you know.
For now I don't know what else to say as I fear bombarding you with any more detail. I'll stop here and collect my thoughts before writing again.
From Someone.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Stranger
General FictionDear Stranger, Have you ever felt as though you were going to die? Have you ever felt like you were walking on the edge? Like in a split second you could fall into the void? I can tell you now that being close to the end isn't like that at all. I sh...
