An unopened envelope

The eye of Sauron sees more than it ought to.

Hope is a waking dream.

My thoughts are sporadic and vague today. If only they do not speak in parables but illuminate the meaning in actuality, then would I have the strength to move forward. But like the ones before me, my heart bleeds, though I do not wear it on my sleeve but keep it hidden and un-enroached upon. If a flower could cry, it would have drowned itself in a salt lake.

He will forget me, in time. There are signs that it is already starting to happen. And to continue on, would be anguish for both. Especially for me, where memories of sweetness and joy clings my very nature of pleasure and excitement.

Cease to remember my number. Or remember my name.

I have a character weaker than I thought. A steel resolve, broken only by a pensive glance. Deemed it unwise to carry out according to plan. Therein lies the unopened envelope in my pretty beige pocket-bag, adorned with european floral motifs. The envelope, plain white and sealed, its fate unknown. Will it thus wither there, or redeem itself at another opportunity to present itself? Or like junk mail, thrown carelessly into the trash... gone, together, forever (for there is but one copy)...lost. It was meant to be read although it did not bring happy news.

It was meant to end before it was started.

It was meant to end this way.