Letters to No one.

Hey. Do you remember me? I guess it doesn't really matter. We were once so close. We shared everything. But all of that has faded now. We're strangers. At times I wish we could retain what we once had. But could it ever be the same again? I doubt it....nothing like what we've experienced could ever allow us to remain close.

 

Oh hi. Oh, you expected a warmer greeting? Why would you deserve one? The way that you treat me? Do you honestly think it's okay? I'm not going to be treated like some miniscule being, especially by you. If you claim I'm so important to you, maybe you should begin acting like it.

 

Life is so dull. Do you feel the ache in your bones? I feel it every day...

 

Hi, we've actually never had a real conversation. We've had a few friendly exchanges, but none of that really matters. We could be great friends. But I suppose most friendships whither away and die anyways.

 

Oh, I don't like you. Probably because I'm jealous.

 

Thank you for always being there for me. Even though I get completely bored of you sometimes. But let's face it-I get bored of everyone.

 

Why are humans so boring? Their thoughts seem to revolve around the same basic thought patterns. 3 dominant facets of their life. It's so boring, so similar. Why can't they break out of this shell and create something better? More interesting, more worthwhile? I dobt it can ever happen...

 

Why do you pretend to empathize with everyone so well, when you can't even figure yourself out? You may think you have it all going for you, but you don't. Good luck figuring it out by yourself.

 

How do you fake your smile so well? I wish I could do the same. But in life, there is no happiness. It all fades away. A whisper can make you happy as easily as sad, but no emotion is sustainable but pain.

 

I feel bad for all those who try to get close to me. It's detrimental in the end, for both of us. You should run as far as you can.

Fantastic. NaNoWriMo

He took a deep breath and sighed. He needed a walk. Time to contemplate his own life.

He lit a cigarette, hearing a fading saxophone in the distance as he walked. The moon was full, and the lights made shadows-shadows as dark as the endless turmoil in his mind.

He saw something in the distance. Distracted, he burnt his fingers on his failing cigarette. Lighting a new one, he inhaled deeply, feeling the relaxation. He exhaled, emitting a cloud of smoke that worked intricate patterns into the wind.

His shell was indeed hollow. He couldn't quite fill it. What was the solution? How could he fill it? He gazed deeply into the distance. Love. But how could he love anyone? When he didn't even love himself? He shouted into the abyss, letting out his anger and frustration. But it wasn't enough. He couldn't solve it. What was the purpose of his life?

He tried filling this hollowness he felt in his chest. Smoking worked at first, but smoke always mingled with the air quickly. He turned for companionship but he did not long for it as well. How could anyone understand what he felt? He felt a momentary respite when the bitter cold air slapped his face as he walked aimlessly on the path of life.

For the pain aided him. Brought him back to reality. But what reality was this? Where he could not truly feel the warmth of another? For a simple touch only lasted for so long. The emotional ties were what gave meaning. But who would want someone like him? A broken soul, a decommissioned soldier? He was unwanted. But he wanted more.