letter number 43

dear Love,

I thought I have finally found you, but you... you tricked me again. Another illusion. I don't even know why I still believe you're real. It's so obvious you're not. You're merely a dream, a sigh on my lips... and you will always stay that way. I know this, and yet you trick me every time. Every time you make me believe. You make me believe in you, love. And I,  I simply fall for you. Over and over again. I cannot even begin to tell you how you make me feel. There is so much going on inside me right now. You took my air away...It's so damn hard to catch it again. Part of me doesn't even want to... Anyways, I hate you for doing this to me. And I hate myself too for letting you. I feel weak, trembling like a fucking leaf in the breeze of summer morning. Yes, I'm angry too. I'm mostly angry at myself for letting myself believe in you again. I feel so goddamn stupid. I'm writing to an illusion,  a ghost of my past. I know I'm meant to stay alone, yet here you are haunting me, screwing with my head... I have to

                                                                                   .........

While writing this, Leila was sitting at her desk, the dim light of the lamp touching her skin as she finally let her head down and fell asleep. But the shadows around her were still approaching. She could feel them even with her teary eyes closed. They were just there, refusing to leave her side. And there were just too many to fit inside her. Now they somehow got out. They were always around her too. She could now see them. And they scare the shit out of her. She cannot live, but she cannot die either. Her childish attempts to get rid of her shadows are just ridiculous. She's trapped between these two worlds. The one that is around her, and the one that is inside her. But now her inside world is getting out. She cannot control it anymore. It has grown too much. Her desires need to take a shape. They cannot just roam inside that emptiness anymore.