I miss you

Dear Dubois

Today was a very lonely day. I stayed to myself, avoiding all things that didn't include inside my four walls. Sister tried to cheer me up but was unsuccessful in removing my f. I didn't realize how sad I was until 6 o clock came and I was STILL sitting alone in my room, not have eatten a single bit. Many things come to mind. The lonelyness, the silents. I was very quick tempered yet very indifferent. I was down but very nord. I looked all day for some sofh of happiness, simply trying to remember what those things were. What was it about me and made me, me? I love beauty but I feel torn that it isn't good enough. That it doesn't do anything for mankind. You know? But if we didn't have art, or music, or beauty experts, this world would be a very boring place. Right? I want to help my son. He is troubled and I know how to help them. I feel like my life has been placed on hold until I "fix" him. I feel I would be selfish if I focus on anything else but him. I guess it's because I had ignored his illness early on and used beauty as a distraction. But beauty was what I loved. It's who I am. I build confidents. I create beautiful things. Man, I just want to pick up the phone and call him to tell him about it. Should I? He said he would be there if I needed him. Well, I need him now!....Don't do it. Not yet. He's too precise to drap him into your mess. Man I want nothing more then be next to your body. Your soft body. Your warm body. Like we were on the cough. That morning. When I wake up at 6am, just to seek over to you and clam into your arms as I destored your sleep. You didn't get that much sleep that day. I was to excited to know that my new love was right there in front of me. Deep breathing, trying to be my best, at everything. Trying to be the best for you.
I think it's funny that I was assaing beauty with neiging my son. I never know that I was doing that. And who said writing isn't thepiet!