Dear Charlie,

How are you? I miss you, I hope you know.

There's a certain sense of ambiguity in the air and though things like that are rarely welcomed, I am choosing to embrace it wholeheartedly, because I feel that this is the only way that I can breathe right now.

Constrained, is a good word. Bound is another. However, both words don't really convey the graveness of it all. Certainty and ambiguity as it seems have become one. Oxymoronic as that may seem, it is what it is. I'm sure you understand as you almost always do.

I am engulfed in emotions that can not be expressed. Of course, incidences such as these are never new and I should have probably grown accustomed to it. But your opinion on the same would be swayed, I'm sure, if you were in my shoes.

Candle drippings on the furniture appeal to me. So do rusty candlesticks. Or empty bottles sitting on the windowsill. I find beauty in the strangest things just like you do. And just like you, I want things that I don't want, things that I don't need, and things that I can't have...

I know you know what I'm talking about. And no, Charlie, I don't want any advice. I don't want to be consoled or comforted. And I don't want any words of wisdom. I don't even really want to talk about it, because I wouldn't know what to say... I just need you, Charlie. Just knowing that you're there to hug me when my eyes start to well-up and to hand me a handkerchief when the tears start to fall is enough.

Yes, certainty and ambiguity have become one. Oxymoronic as that may seem, you know I'm certainly ambiguous and I know that you would understand that as you almost always do.


As Always,
D.