To Sender

Tifa,

I know we talk rarely now and then, our lives leading us one way or another...

But... I really meant it when I said I treasure what words are shared, how deeply I appreciate the friendship that we have come to share. You listen to my wandering thoughts, allowing me to vent what's been weighing so heavily upon my shoulders.

Most importantly you make me laugh and smile. It's those moments I cherish most. How you make me forget but for a moment and manage to effortlessly paint happiness upon my lips. And all you had to do was look at me... share that timid smile as if you and I shared a most sacred secret that only we could ever know.

Please excuse the over-romanticizing that practically wells up within these pages... I can't help feeling quite sentimental at the moment and at times like these I feel I can best describe what I'm feeling through these pretty little words.

In hindsight, we never really knew each other, did we?

I really wish I had been able to get to know you then. Before "everything." Back when there was a "normal." Funny how things turn out and, even sadder, how they continue to grow.

I'm... feeling "weird" as some might say.

I can't really describe it but it leaves me feeling a little melancholy. A bunch of "what ifs" and "what nots" that well up deep inside and make me think on things that people would say are far too silly to dwell on, especially at my own age. Am I... thinking too much?

Most probably.

It's funny how we pick up on the last conversation as if it were nothing; which are, sometimes, months and even years apart. Thinking on it, I'm left to wonder if perhaps becoming closer just wasn't to be, like being only vague acquaintances when not spoken to but what would sound like the closest of friends to a stranger if overheard from beyond a closed door.

I admit my own loneliness that I've been feeling off and on has been hitting my own battered form as if they were violent waves following the commands of a tempestuous maelstrom. And yes I find that imagery to be rather fitting, if a little wordy.

So what then is the purpose of what I write?

I find that... I do not know.

Perhaps I am frustrated by what possibilities have passed me by but then I wonder... maybe it's better to not know. To not find out what those "what ifs" would feel and become. I wonder if you understand what I'm trying to convey within these written words.

What say you if I were to whisper in your ear that I thought I possibly loved you? What then would that do? Would it destroy our fragile bond of friendship? Would you simply disappear from my life forever simply because I chose to voice what was starting to blossom beneath my breast?

Perhaps at the end of it all I am merely a coward, unable to say these words to your warm and caring face.

The road has been long and I feel so terribly exhausted. Perhaps traveling alone has done much to stir up old memories which only serve to make me more aware of how much I miss you and your valued company...

Regardless... merely consider these simply but a mad rambling from a forlorn man who doesn't know where his path shall lead him. I hope the best for you...

Regards,

Vincent Valentine.