Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Dearest Frank,



Before I'd left yesterday, I could have sworn you'd asked me to stay, though instead I'd left. Left for all the wrong reasons. And I'm standing here now at your doorstep, like a fool. Defeated and desperately tired. My feet are aching from the long walk back to you, my shoulders bruised from all the weight I've been carrying on my back. All the things I've been holding in. And as romantic as it would sound to tell you I love you, to tell you I simply can't go on with out you. I won't. I'd be lying if I did.

 Though as I'd sat there in the bus station, with my ticket in hand and my luggage slumped over beside me, I couldn't help but think of you. You and all the things I'd wanted with you. For once, I'd want to stay. To stay through the good, the bad and the destructively depressing. So here I stand, like a fool with my foot in my mouth and my cheeks stained with tears. Ready to tell you, that I'm back. Back for good.

Isabelle




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Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Dearest Frank,



There's been a lot I've been holding back. More than you know, more than even I know. And I've waited so long to tell you. Patiently, like a child on Christmas morning. And days have turned into weeks and weeks into months and here I sit, with you in the next room. With a lump in my throat, a feeling I get right before I'm about to cry. I've never been able to control this feeling and I hate it. If I could make it disappear I would. If I could tell you all the things I'm feeling I would. So instead I write it. Write it, because it's what I do best.

 So here. Here I stand. And these past few hours, these past few days, weeks, months I have been going crazy. Literally crazy thinking about what this is, what we are. If it was nothing more than a kiss, nothing more than a moment that passed between us. Because to be terribly honest, and let me remind you, that this honesty doesn't come easy. The kiss, for me was more than a passing moment, or a mutual agreement. I know because every second, every minute afterwards I have not yet been able to get you off my mind and to be blunt, I hate it. I hate that I can't get you off my mind, I hate that once I've reached that point of determination to stop thinking about you, there you are. With those eyes and that smile I can hardly resist. Maybe for you this was simply a kiss, simply something that  has happened often, and with many...I'm not sure. But to me it meant something more, and I'm sitting here wondering if it meant anything at all to you...if not you can disregard this, we can go on being friends, acting as if this had never happened. But if it meant more....than the rest is up to you to say so. I felt I've said too much already.

                                                  -Isabelle