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when the whole world turns its back to me - will you still love me? will you still treasure the long-gone innocence you once thought i possessed? do you still dream of me - when you close your eyes? i am in a dark place, isolated from everything and everyone with only a few pieces of broken memories consuming my thoughts, driving me insane, driving me to the edge. and when all else fails to hold me to the ground, i think of you. it is because of your love that i have not yet given up hope and what little there is left of my desire to go on. to live? i avoid this word as of late; my existence is all but living.

your love is a treasure. a love that i will never requite - and would despise to do so. it is the solitary feeling i hate the most in the world - yet you are not the person i hate.

i sunk myself lower than ever. i would give my dear life to hear you chuckle at my choices, to have you scoff at my arrogant youthfulness, as you once said, but that time shall never repeat itself, neither physically, nor emotionally. oh, how i treasure our summers, the months of shame, of discovery, of gentle tenderness that had no chance to last. when did you love me first? when did you, for the first time, lower your eyes from the fear of being discovered. were you humiliated to learn that you loved again? to learn that you love a monster?

i am a man of many regrets; i am consumed by them most of my days now and i know not what to do with all the sorrow. do i say how sorry i am? do these words have the capacity and capability of expressing the true repentance i wish i could express.

that night - of which i dare not speak - you gave yourself to me. in the vast sea, lit up by naked moon you gave yourself to me. and i laughed and hated you and wished to strangle you. i wanted to make you feel pain - different from the pain you were feeling already - i wanted to humiliate you, ravage your senses, destroy your purity, vandalize your propriety. and i did. and with the shame of laying my hand upon you i will die. alas, the death has other plans for me.

you know of my circumstance concerning a certain woman, an ironic twist of fate. i occupy the present place in life largely - entirely - because of what transpired between us. i wish not to give you details; i fear that even in this story you will have an upper hand. but i loved, i loved her as you have loved me. and i felt the shame you felt when i first realized i was unable to look into her eyes for the fear of being discovered in my passion. that feeling changed me - and ultimately destroyed me.

she left. we were on land instead of sea and instead of gentle moon i was scorched by the unforgiving sun. and i became you - for an instant at first, then - for eternity. i felt the pain and tasted my own blood and fell into a heavy nirvana with your name on my lips. i had no chance of mastering your grace, i had no chance of vindication or survival. the last year, or two or three - i have lost count - has been a daze. i have been paying for my sins.

she left, as i have mentioned, and took her feelings and pain and regret with her. she also took with her the time in which the physicality and emotionality that united us existed.

i am alone most of the days. i do not mind it. it gives me time to think - between the visits with the doctor and the four lavish servings of food that i am treated to (the suite at berkeley pales in comparison with the hefty fee i shell out here - it is worth every penny).

the medication is wearing off - and with it will go my sincerity and openness. i will regret succumbing to both and writing and sending you this letter.

i want to say something positive to you. i want to write that i love you but i don't want to offend you with my lies.

i thank you for the loyalty, for being unable to deceive that whom you once loved even when he fell so far from deserving any of your graces.

truly yours,

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