At this late hour, my love, my thoughts revert back to you. Naturally, a wave of guilt comes with this satisfaction - for the younger love I have is tender and juvenile, unsuspecting of the strong ties between you and I. His aloofness is peculiar, but it too is a blessing, and I'd rather not pontificate on the possibilities of his reactions towards this clandestine love.
Perhaps you disagree, and wish for me to live honestly, and without the corrupt and eerie wiles of our nature, but it's alluring and intoxicating and unforgettable. A life without you is a life unfulfilled, as a life with him would be much too innocent for me to endure. I have been exposed to the world, and its infections; I am not prone to pain as much as he is, and it's a tale of anxiety to continue to love him. Yet, if you and I were to be bound again, a mature and rejuvenated love would bloom, and the subliminal and hidden messages would be of no use to us any longer. We could explicitly be enamored by each other's gaze; I could kiss you without the night cloaking us; you could hold me without having to let go.
Once again, my true love, my wants and needs match my imagination: Born these dreams into reality.
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