Letter to Temperance, 2nd this month, rightly titled, "You may never get this."

I know myself a bit, and if anybody knows me more it's you. So, I do not believe I need to go into

details why I will never send this to you, why you may never read it. I'll write it just for my sake,

and the possibility you find it.

How long has it been mother? I saw you once before you left, but no words escaped our lips.

I don't understand us, we love each other, don't we? You're my mother, but I can't even look at you

without cringing. I don't understand sometimes, what kind of monsters are we? Not us, not just humanity,

not just immortals, but mortals. We say when someone's insane, they have become an animal, but look around us,

even an animal would behave better than we have.

You're traveling the world again, aren't you? Father would be happy, he always wanted you to

see the world. At least Father would be happy for one of us, just one.

If you see the stain on the page, I'm sorry, I write often in the garden, I tend to the flowers a lot.

Castiel made it, sure, but there is something about nature that is too pure for my eyes.

It calls me, like a parent I guess, not that I don't have one, but the fact I need one, I need you.

Thara. . . .(Dots stained from his pen hitting the page) She's okay, she's doing well, really.

Klaus takes care of her, I think. He comes and goes a lot, mostly coming, rarely going, but you would

know all about that, wouldn't you? Well, I guess not, Father was the other way, they always sent him away from you,

didn't they? Whatever, it doesn't matter, don't worry about me.

I stay in my room most of the time, when he comes. Either there, or out in the garden, where I find

some comfort. Allen gets worse every day, I think, but he doesn't show it, I know he wants to die, I see it,

but I won't allow it. The garden gives me comfort, I don't know why.

What happened today? . . . .(More Pen stains) I was out in the garden, when I wanted to go inside for

water. Most people say that ears are a blessing, but today, I wished I was born deaf. I went to the door,

it was nighttime, I think, I lose track of time in the garden. I placed my cold hands upon the door,

feeling a sense of frozen desire to be warm inside those doors that had been placed in front of me.

Much to say, I had an eagerness to be indoors.

I stopped when I heard their voices, their laughter, I was stupid and put my ear to the door, like

I wanted to listen, believe me mother, I didn't. I heard their words in the distant, something of the day

they first met, and how he had changed so much. It hurt me mother, I don't know why, but I guess I wondered.

If I changed, would anyone notice? Have I changed at all? If I only was like him, would things be different?

It doesn't matter, no, it doesn't matter anymore.

Desire looks well, I'm glad you left her, she is a strong horse. I watched her when I'm in the garden, she just stands there sometimes,

her eyes to the north, I wonder what she thinks about? She's so silent when she's alone, I wonder what life has been like for her?

Most nights I awake in the middle of the night, screaming her name, the girl, the one you met, the one you rescued?

I don't think she hears, because when I awake, she's never there. I then proceed downstairs, one bag is always packed,

I saddle Desire, then I go back in, turning to go back out, but I can't seem to leave. It's stupid, every night, the same thing.

From the me I wish I was~ Lyle Dylandy