Wasted Ink

Dear Emily,

       I’m so sorry for it all; I never meant to hurt you. I know it’s obvious but think I still love you. I know what I said about how I won’t bother you about this subject anymore but it’s just so damn hard. I couldn’t help myself when I saw a piece of notebook paper. I was sitting on my bed, thinking about the tour, and looking at my guitar. It reminded me of you. I turned away so I wouldn’t have to look at it and saw a pink envelop, then a piece of notebook paper with the pen that I never write with.

You know, I’ve never written with that pen before. I know when my dad gave it to me that it was special. I have kept that pen safe and never used since I was fourteen. Last night I used it, for you. Guess what? It write beautifully, just as beautiful as your voice when you strum your guitar.

I’m sorry, I really want to change I just need to get away from love and alcohol. I want to make a deal with you. If you think I have changed after the tour, will you go out with me again?

If you don’t want to, then don’t waste your time telling me no. I just wanted to tell you how I feel.

Love, or hate,

Harry