It has been forever since we last talked, Arthur and I.

I wonder how he's been doing; I just know he's probably gone back to his stupid old drinking habits again, I wonder when he will ever stop. But I can't do anything about it.

Because it was my fault.

The American Revolution – the time when I left Arthur for good, and became an independent country. It wasn't only one heart that suffered on that one day. I wish he would understand it's because I want to hurry up and grow up, to be his equal, someone that he will recognize, a hero. I wish he'd know that I only wear these stupid fake glasses for the sake of looking mature so that he won't look at me as a "Child" and a "Brat" forever, because I'm not.

I finally understand that these actions are all for him to look at me as an adult man.

So that I can take him into my arms and embrace him.

I love Arthur…