It was January 2012, when-- during her long dragging Spanish class, she decided to be brave and impulsive. This inspiration came from a close friend in college. She tore a piece of paper, and started scribbling down. As any normal letter, she started with "Dear", she paused, held the pen in a hesitating manner, stared out in a blank wall, took a deep breath and one by one, as though learning the alphabet for the first time, she wrote his name. And her pen broke a sigh of relief. Then came a complete silence, thinking, seeming, hoping-- she continued on. At random, with uncontrollable urge, she used her hands to pour out words and emotion her eyes and mouth cannot implore: "i love you to pieces and distractions..""please love me, i could wait forever if..""someday you'll see..""why? Why not me..?""if you are happy..""I hope all the happiness for you both..""forever ends here, I guess..""I'm letting you go... you were not mine in the first place""I am both happy and sad..""This is not easy as I thought it would be..." on and on she went until her hands'd gone so angry red she stopped.
Another month dragged on. She waits. But deep inside her she already know. She waits. She cries every night. She waits. The long letter she wrote fades into silence. She waits. It fades. The pain. She cries. The long letter she wrote whispers to her every night: "why haven't you give me to him yet?" She waits. Teardrops can be seen in a yellow piece of paper where she wrote her love letter...
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