Dear …

Dear …

I’ve come to find in recent weeks, my pushing the envelope is no longer tolerated, by me. There is always question in my mind the resonate nature of need, though it is a bit frightening to suddenly wake one day and realize, my own persistence in letting you shelve the endearment once apparent in our lives. I have nothing to fault beyond my own, perhaps, arrogance with filling space with energy.

I imagine now today, how you manage a correspondence with despair and disconnect. How easy it might be for you to push away given the constancy of my own need. I could never fault you for this. For all the times I have spoken more frankly than recent I lay myself on the floor with a certain fascination with just how completely blind I have been to understanding the perilous nature of thinking only for myself.

This letter carries the weight of my soul because I can count the numerous times in my life, my actions have been simple reactions rather than the thoughtful of all those involved. I look now at the beauty of a spring day, and in a quiet silence, my reflection is lost in the burden of my actions.


© Scott F Savage

‘letters not sent’


Published by a quiet man

I am a writer. I've always wanted to write intriguing words. Don't we all. Aren't we all wanting to be experts in the language of love, sensuality, desire, provocative notions? Well, I'm giving it a try. Join me if you'd like, and please share any feedback you think would help my adventure :)

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