AUTHOR’S NOTE: I think the last post of mine was much appreciated among you all, and so here’s another one.
Like hundreds of people who have someone who means as much as you mean to me, I begin this letter with the question, “Where do I begin from?”
If memories are what we are made of, then I could say you are what allows me to live. Cheesy much? I couldn’t care, we love nachos either way. Senseless much? That’s what we are.
Anybody who sees us now won’t believe that we’ve known each other only for a year and a half. We’re rarely seen without each other, leading to the belief that we’re lovers.
Well, they couldn’t be more correct.
I do love you, but not the way people believe me to. And I’m glad it’s that way, because then no one can question it’s authenticity. There’s no one deciding whether our love, our respect for each other has changed, no one but us. And we both know that there’s no need for us to ever to do that, because- “cross my heart, hope to die.”
I remember how mad at you I was when you proudly announced to me, “I am leaving and going to–“, well I didn’t let you complete your sentence because that was pretty much it.
There’s no me without you and no you without me.
I can’t think of anything more to say. I guess this is pretty much the part where I start thanking you for all you did.
Or do I? I wouldn’t mind, but there’s only so much one can read about gratitude, when it’s not about you. So, I’ll just try to say it all in one phrase.
Thank you for like, life.
Mothers give us birth, that’s true. And our families give us a reason to live. I guess that’s proof enough to let the world know, you’re nothing less than family to me.
A, I’ll take your leave here. Oh and call me, I need a break from life.