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Dear past me,

Dearest Isabelle,

While you must hide in shadow, there is light in your future. The world shall open to you, and offer possibilities you could never dream of. As your thoughts flit to the edges of darkness, hands wrapped around the necks of ill men, do know that brighter occurrences await you in your future. You know as I do that our life shall extend for eternity if we shall choose to drag it on, or face the consequences of decay, but you needn’t not live this eternity alone.

The future holds promises of touch, of flesh that does not blacken at your embrace, of men that do not look at you in fear but in want. While you hide in lands of gloom, casting yourself away from others, do know that that is not your ever lasting fate. You will be welcomed to a new existence, of love, lust, admiration. Sweet nothings will grace you ears as they do maidens of dusty pages. Your wishes of intimacy will be fulfilled, so do not allow a tear to fall. There is no need to weep in hidden passages, gaze meeting men and women in sweet envelopment, throwing away their purity to love. No need to punish them for their sins for you will join them in tainted clutch.

Your dreams of snowy white lace may not come true yet, for I do not know, but the chances of it will grow. I promise you that. You will not always be so alone. Evenings will not be kept company solely by your sister. Her sweet words and undying love for you will push you towards new beginnings, and you will thank her for her suggestions. You will miss her youthful presence as she grows older, but never stray from your adoration. She will continue to be your support in older ages, and you will cherish every moment that she lives. You do not need to fear the day that she leaves you, and this world, for she embraces her fate, and wishes you allow your memory of her to remain happy. You will cry the day you notice her first wrinkle, the first gray hair upon her head, but you will also sit by her side that night, reading as she tells you of another failed romance.

We need not worry of being alone when she’s gone. Your dreams of companionship will come true, your ache for knowledge will be fulfilled. Life will not be dark, and cold, and meaningless when you are not fulfilling your purpose. It will be full and gracious, offering you much happiness in between the moments your Lord recoils at your fulfillment of his wishes.

You will feel fulfilled in your own way, little by little, as people surround you, and fill your still heart with compassion. A touch of warmth to accompany the cold of the end you symbolize. You will not be alone in your Damnation. Do not fear the involvement of others.

Yours truly, Isabelle

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Dear person I like,

Dearest Schatzi,

Each moment of your absence drags on as if decades. A grain of sand to a second falls into dunes around me, cradling me as I await the moments where your sweet greetings grace my screen. I find myself longing for your phrases of old eras, your sweet sentiments as I offer my time. You are but a gentleman in a harsh world that has done you no favors. A strong individual in your trying affairs, struggling through your own trials, and I find myself taken by how accepting you are of such heavy happenings.

The breaths you could spend with complaints against the world are instead given value in your continuation of life beyond living. Your choice to make the best of death sparks a light of endearment in my core. Drives me into a corner where I do not know what to do as my consciousness slips in need to protect you and your decisions. To learn from you the facts of those that could do you harm, seal you away from their ill intentions and keep you warm.

Yet my touch is a match to your wick, and before a sweet embrace of two you would be doused in flame. I could not hold you as I wish, my protection would be your undoing, and yet I sit here with such burning desire. Discovered and a lit from new experiences. Grace me with the gentle brush of vitality, grant me life as I steal from you in short doses. I will not take more than what the act alone demands, for your end would bring no beginnings, only sorrow. Despite my wants I do not humor images of you accepting such a fate, though, for I could never take from you as the world always has.

For you, my dearest schatzi, I would much rather give you life than take it away. Even though it may not be within my power, that is the most fervent of my wishes. Live on my dear.

Respectfully Yours, Isabelle

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Dear person I like,

Dearest Kaiser,

Sweet nothings line the air from my own honeyed lips. My admiration of you lining halls as if festive lights. I had not thought a being so aged, so wise, would hold an air of recklessness, of immature bouts, but I have been struck wrong. Your malformed points of view echo in chasms of what was once my faith. I have struck at men before with words of holy belief when their actions rung in thrums of ill will, but you hold words to challenge my own, to drive away my force.

I’m enamored with you. As my gaze meets your form I am taken by wings of beauty only I can see. You are like a butterfly, so rare, and never still. Your existence alone makes my body ache, craving to have you held in the cup of my hands, my grasp tight and unwavering. I fear if I loosen my grip you will escape, flitting through the air of your own free will. For I know I cannot own you, cannot pin you down and study your everything, but the longing ache to do so sits heavy in this corpse.

Your beauty has taken me, hollowed me out and left me with a wanting. A hunger that one night alone cannot satiate. My hands itch with a need to feel you under their fingertips once again, so full of life, so giving to this rotting form of mine. While God recoils at the sight of my transgressions, I hold no regrets, for he had forsaken me at the intake of my first pointless breath. Do with what you wish with my form, for I am nothing but glad to serve, I will sing hymns to my Lord and have him bare witness to my countless acts of sin. He will damn me to Hell not only to erase his allowance of my existence, but for my bouts of lust, and I shall take my punishment in strides of great acceptance if permitted to lay at your side.

So dance with me in the scorned ruins that God has left behind, in merriment with one another. And share with me the tales of which you’ve lived. I will sit in wonderment through each word you speak, and promise you my devotion as I collect your stories on pages curled with time. Keeping them for myself in place of you, as I watch you strong and willful live throughout your freedom. Allow me to bare witness in moments of your joy, share with me scenes of which you wish, welcome my hand in yours in moments of loneliness, and I will be there for you. For as long as you shall wish.

Sincerely Yours, Isabelle

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Dear ex boyfriend

Dearest Remembrance,

The words I would once whisper in stilled air, while seated in hidden cloves, to the thought of you haunt my dreams. You were never once real, only a figment of my imagination, my creativity, and longing run wild, but I loved you so. I had lain upon grassy hills and drained the land of life as I watched the moon overhead, envisioning your presence settled with mine. The hands I once thought of as yours were strong, and yet so gentle, a touch so Heavenly it was beyond words. A touch so foolishly romanticized as I had never felt the sweet embrace of taint free flesh.

As my lashes kiss my cheeks images of what could have been us dancing in open ballrooms line my lids. My desire to have you be as real as the inevitability of my decay was once so fierce. A hunger lashed through me to feel your dream sent touch against my skin, but now I wish these memories goodbye. The falsities I once fed myself, the image of you I had made to cure my lonesome ailment, are no longer needed in this world where I have found peace.

I bid my lingering thoughts of you farewell, my mind to be cleared of the pages I filled with your essence, for I have found flesh that I may welcome into my arms. Skin that doesn’t blacken at the soft brush of lips. While your existence had kept me warm in the darkness I steal away to, it is no longer needed. So, my oh so dear memories, I bid you goodbye.

Sincerely yours, Isabelle

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