✍ c:
Send me a ✍: for a letter from my muse to yours.
Dear Jongdae,
I must say for a stranger I once spoke to, you left quite an impression. It is inevitable that you have burnt my ears with your loose affectionate words that came off as expletive to me. Even so, I have come to know that it was a massive misunderstanding betwixt the unfortunate souls of you and me, so I did extend an apology for my rather rash actions. My habits of stalking someone down had never been so useful and lethal at sundown. Nevertheless, this past topic is beside the actual point of penning this letter for one like you.
I have a strange style of judgement, but truly this must be right because I’ve heard numerous testaments. Though you might perceive me as prying already, I shall not yield. Upon the leave of a certain someone, I’ve personally noticed as well that you no longer possess the spirit of joviality and mirth. It is not like you have been washed out in conjunction to this matter, but it is the manner in which your presence is being held that is honestly worrying me. Your eyes seemed to have the wisps of expiry floating in and out of them.
Yet this is where I must forgo of my dignity, and say what I truly need to say. I am in no position to implore, but please, so desperately please, hang on a little longer to be proven that this is not the end. Wait before throwing in the towel; take a second chance before lowering the anchor in the dark depths of a raging whirlpool. Don’t let yourself be spun out of control in this brewing maelstrom, where the last thing that would seem to occur is rest and peace. Don’t you dare attempt to drown your sorrows with drugs and alcohol either, because all those feelings are just going to learn to eat you up from the inside if you give them the chance. Don’t let go of the hope you once held onto because things will get better, and the storm will pass. Forgive me for writing in a fashion that is becoming far too ridiculous to comprehend, but do bear in mind that I care, and I need not see another become a dead sailor at sea.
Because trust me, mister. I do know. We may not have suffered the same troubles, but I’ve had my fair share of them. And so, my only last request of this is that you would try, even if it’s of a minimal level, for surely it would be what your missing beloved would have wanted you to do. Maybe it stung, having written that, but I hope that you’ve peered closer and noticed the tears that have sprung — that have not only been yours — because it’s not only he that have meant something to you. With that, I close, and may you be blessed with an iron hand to do what is right.