dear ____,

mornings are starting to be chilly. temperatures are dropping. I keep waking up in the middle of the night; on some nights even three or four times. I like that time between 4 and 7 am when the temperatures are the lowest. even the craziest parties tend to end around this time of the night. instead of imaging people sleeping I think of them drunk, stumbling down the roads, fighting. I fall back asleep pretty quickly. my sleeping routines have changed completely, for the first time in four years I am actually getting enough sleep on a daily basics. and now that I have finished high school it can only get better. or maybe I will fall back into my crazy routine of sleeping during the day and living at night. but I hope not. I have many plans for the next few months and I am looking forward to it all.

I’m not sure why I am writing all this. I don’t think you’d be interested. not after the last letter. I might have been too harsh, but I meant every single word. we are pretty distanced right now, if you’re mad at me then I don’t know it. I don’t want to. but things have changed in the last three weeks. you have no idea how much. I want to go back home, I want to go back to you. it’s going to be a year and a half soon since we last saw each other. I miss that night, I miss that summer. but it’s okay. I keep saying this all the time. I am not sure whether I actually mean it.

I am eating a broccoli soup right now, a cup of coffee, a cup of tea. it’s like I am trying to balance it a little bit. I am trying to find my balance again and I think I am getting really close it. I wonder about you. what you are doing, reading. have you watched any new films? things like that. but for some reason instead of actually talking to you, sending you an email or calling you on skype, I keep writing these letters, hoping maybe day you’ll actually read them all. you don’t even know that I am writing and how much. I can’t help but think you’d be impressed. I still remember our last conversation in the car before you drove me to the bus stop. and I hate buses. but it was better like that, because I didn’t want you to spend an hour alone in the car on the way back, thinking about what it all meant. I took that responsibility. I always do and although sometimes it’s hard I think I’ve come to terms with it. but things have changed so much recently. I want to talk to you about the changes. no one understands anything now, but I know you would.

I’m hopeful. you’ll hear from me soon.

signed oscar wilde.

November 20, 2010