Hey,

My Friend, you're on my mind, all the time. It's not so bad thinking of you, except for the fear. I make mistakes all the fucking time. Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes... Mistakes You may or may not understand, or recognize for anything but ignorance or apathy. I assure you, my dear, I feel no apathy towards You. The antithesis, even. I am afraid. A childish fear of you, a childish fear in league with Darkness and the religious Man's God. Again I assure you, this fear is not such a bad thing; for it speaks of how I feel--though I suppose it is the reason we don't see each other often.

I don't know whether or not I should be sorry for my inaction, or if I should hope that You will see through my ridiculous screen of apprehension. Maybe you'll understand when you read this, that it is You I'm speaking of.

I don't really know what else to say...
~~
This is my letter to you, with Love.

listening to: The Beatles