12 String Dreams Journal
2001-09-23 10:22:12 (UTC)

The Note

A piece of paper falls from the old battered box and floats
peacefully to the floor. No sound, no emotion, just a few
words flashing before my eyes. The writing is mine, the
words, I'm not sure.

Did I forget that much or did I just lay it to rest a long
time ago.

I read it silently.

I selfishly assume it's me your trying to protect.

Me your trying to help. Me your trying for.

My love tends to blur my vision along with my tears.

I realize I need to try for you, to understand you.

Your thinking with your head, I still think with my heart.

Giving up is hard, hurting you is harder.

I respect you more then any person I've ever met and

Love you more then I've ever loved before.

I thank you, I miss you, and don't ever forget I Love

I fold the piece of paper and place it back into the box. I
place the box back into the closet and close the door
tightly. I'm sure I'll run across it another night. I'm
sure I'll read the words again another time. I might even
think about her without crying, but not tonight.

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