Thursday, August 19, 2010

In Loving Letters

Dear M,
Forgive me my weariness and laziness for not being prompt in our correspondence. I was too scared to get into the intimate details or rather I chickened out of what I thought would be situations I might not be able to handle.
It’s nice to see you growing up to be a real boy (even if a part of me wishes you wouldn’t because really, I think the childhood part is probably the best memory any adult would carry). But there are forces other than our dillydallying at work and they change the rules for no one. There is a lot of stuff I could get into if I now got carried away, so forgive me once again for killing whatever spontaneity attempts to spring up. I’m so aware of the importance of physical time spent together that I’m scared, really, that you might see me differently, rely on me lesser and lesser, until there is no need for me to be a part of your life.
Forgive me again for saying that, I think I’m telling you the worst case scenarios I’ve thought about and been scared about. Let’s switch the subject.

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