Les Letres

"Dear,

Today is lonely. You go to somewhere I don't know when I'm here in somewhere you always know I am.

Dear,

Who knows I kept some memories in a box that I suddenly found under my old clothes?

Dear,

Under my old clothes, I met my old feeling.

I met an old letter I wrote through history lesson, as it is a history for me right now.

To make it historical enough, I would like to write it historically here.

Maybe, he isn't someone who can make his juniors screaming histerically when he walks across the classes. He isn't someone who becomes hot topic on twitter or facebook.

I don't want to feel their jealousy or adoring expressions when he stands beside me. I just want to be the one who feel and accept his sincerity and careess.

I love him sincerely, no matter he feels it or not, or if he does the same thing with me or not.

Like a wind, I will always give him freshness when he feels hot.

Like a sun, I will always give him light and warmness whenever he needs it.

I don't hope he can realize it as well, that I always think about him each day, wait his smile.

I desperately want him to be close to me.

Whole-heartedly, I hope that him and I will always be together in the kind of passion and faithfulness like this.

After this kind of letter, I think a lot. I give you nothing -- I'm like nothing, now.

Maybe, if I'm still a straight-edge like this, everything is pretty as it was, now.

Confession, apologize, regret, feeling win... What do they mean?

They tear us apart, they set me down, they're kind of thirst that break us slowly.

What do they mean?

Are they worth ourselves?

No, they are not worth anything, even us, and what we have.

Dear,

At least, if I can't have a time machine,

Can we make an U-turn?"