Sometimes i look for hours at old pictures and letters you left for me. I couldn't get tired of seeing that familiar face and the letters of every note that make up the message. I love how you dot your i's and i can still hear your accent when you wrote those and home. I still drown in the curves of your green eyes. I still try to to find the meaning behind those old messages. I'm not likely to find comfort in either of those memories but I'm still trying to find peace in the little things that you called ours. Not sure what to make of it all, four years down the road with plenty more to go. I just wish i had more than one fucking letter, and that you didnt delete my pictures off of my computer. But all thats what i deserved. All i have left is all i deserve.

When i look into
Your real eyes I realize
The real lies you spun

This is not the time or place to address the emptyness of the life i chose. We both know i let you go to be happier than i could ever make you. The uncertainty about me was never meant to make you uneasily impressed. I guess its best that you are finished with the college where we met. And i really agree that that group of friends wasnt right for me. I know I'll never see you alive again but I'll make good on my promise to be there after the end. Thats something that i own- I've been thinking I'm friendlier to the deceased in the ground.

Before i met you i didnt know what it was to love. I had never felt insane. I had nothing to covet. I never stood outside a window in the rain. After i left you I've been living like a sailor. Isolated for months, my love left behind on the coast. Now my hearts buried in the ocean and my home is non existent.

I say yo more than hey or hi. I use peace more than goodbye. I describe affection with love rather than like. Id take a bus above taking out my bike. I text instead of call. I wear a large not a small. I prefer to listen to full albums over single songs. I am more often right than i am wrong. I do not play many video games alone. I spend most of my time at home. I don't read much but if i do its non fiction. Friends and family would say i care for diction. I am often in good health. It is uncomfortable to talk about myself.

Our time together was nothing more than tiny dots on an endless timeline. There is a fine line of difference between the time we were together and when we were just in close proximity. You know while i was out there i always put myself out there on that line for you. I made as many dots as i could on either side. Positive or negative my will was actively assure in defining my time out there with those moments of being with you or living without.

I'm trying to fill these pages as fast as i can so i can send this to you as soon as i can. But i can no longer fill the pages with any original idea so long after what has happened between us. There is nothing in my future but these sutures holding my broken heart together falling apart. I'm writing "i can" as much as i can to stay as positive as i can be. I can not tell if its working.