I desperately needed to write you.
Maybe so I wouldn't feel so alone.
Maybe so I can feel that you hear me.
Its been one of those days, I've been the extra person all day,
All couples, then there's me. Standing in the darkness.
I hope you don't feel like I feel now; but in a way I hope you do, so you can at least understand how it feels to be hollow.
No one knows me as well as you will after reading all of my letters.
I hope that you will understand and be content with me after knowing the truth about who I am, and who I am not.
I confess I am a Liar, some of the time, and I'm lonely most of the time.
I can be bossy and belittling, I'm incurably cold.
My strength is my weakness and you are my strength.
I'm cynical and apathetic.
I'm battered and bruised and react accordingly with anger and hatred, I'm unforgivable and commonly rude.
People cringe at the sight of me, and I grin at their frailty.
I frighten for the fun of it.
I have burned, beaten, stolen, tortured, threatened, and murdered inconceivably.
I am a prisoner in my own home, I have never been loved, I have been beaten, tortured, threatened, abused and neglected, all by the man I thrive to become.
But my dear Meg,
all of this aside. I'm forevermore yours and I love you.
Sir Guy of Gisborne