Dear Night,

I am a fraud. A fraudulent fraud.

Worst part is that I can't make anyone understand because I've fooled them so well that they would never believe for a second how fraudulent I really am.

Ironic, I know. And I'd really like to try to explain what I mean exactly, but I can't... Not fully.

As Ralph Waldo Emmerson puts it, "No change of circumstances can repair a defect of character.", and it's true. The circumstances have changed and yet I still bear this defect.

I am broken. In all ways.

I can try to disguise myself as otherwise, but in the end I will never be able to live up to the standard, because I can never be repaired.

I am a fraud. I don't mean to be... But I guess that's what I've become.

I'm sorry.


As Always,
D.