me thinks.

i guess it's time to write again.
this will be free writing. unrestrained and untempered. because i'm tired of writing about things that i don't want to write about. i'm exhausted from always trying to be a version of myself that is not me. i've had it with all the feigned pleasantries...

and i hope that one day, when you would have grown older and wiser, and have the luxury of retrospection, when you would recall your younger days of wild and reckless abandon, you will remember me:
and you will remember the boulevard, the waves underneath the stars and moon, the hushed whispers of sweet nothings and endless days and nights spent cuddling, the dreams of travelling together, and the house and kids that we were going to raise -- and...

dear lover,
you might think it bizarre that i need to write you this letter, but consider this as part of my eccentricities; eccentricities that you are now a part of since you decided to become part of who i am.
first of all, i need to be candid with you and tell you about my heart....

dear lover,
it's only been two weeks, but if i have to tell you, my mind has become too unbearable because of the influx of thoughts; too much thoughts.
i guess it has not yet become apparent to you that i tend to overthink. yes, i do.