It’s clear that my mind is as cloudy as when it’s about to rain; but I’m scared of even admitting that. I know I’m at fault; I’m always at fault.
I want to do it all myself, but then again I wish I could. I know you have thrilling expectations for me, from me; but the truth is I don’t think I can reach them, not the way you would expect. Now I’m supposed to say exactly how I feel and state the problem but the thing is, I’m the problem and my feelings…I doubt they still belong to me.
I have so much to say but each time I attempt to utter a word, I choke. I would tell you the truth but what if the truth I know is a lie? What if I am not sure anymore?
Someone said that “whatever you think the problem is, it’s not the actual problem, there is always something smaller behind it.”
So I’ll start with a subtle, hoping this would clear the board a little “I’m sorry.”
Your little love,