Published by Open Love Letters


TRANSCRIPT:

"Hello you,

I'm writing you a letter because you said you loved my handwriting. I remember you saying it as you slipped it out when you shouldn't have, and I felt your eyes on the back of my head as I gazed down into my lap as I wrote those stupid little affirmations on post-it notes. Although they're not so stupid. And they do as much good as the cliché's do in times like this. 

I't been 2 weeks which is no time at all. And it feels that way. I fill my days with daydreams built half from paranoia, half from fantasy, dreaming what you think of me. That's all I've ever wanted from you really. To fill these dizzy quiet moments in which I stare up from whatever I'm doing and place myself in another mundane fantasy.

As I've said and always known, my problems are founded in the fact I am a fantasist. Not in the way I imagine in doe eyes and restless nights, but in the hopelessly out of touch reality way. The fact I am totally lost in you is entirely built in my own delusion. And in times like this, when I have more time on my hands, wrestling with my refusal of reality, I remember the day you told me you loved my handwriting. And it's fuel to my always simpering fire. Always yours - 

N x"