Remember that field trip to the sand dunes we took when we were in school together? I don't know why I just said that. Why am I remembering this now? Strange. I remember the stars... I don't like them now... but at that time I did. I was childishly happy. And as the sun set on the sand dunes, I climbed to the top of the biggest one and witnessed as the stars took over the sky... oh... now I recall. I made a pact with God that day (still believed once, I know- hard to think so) that if I reached the top I'd come back down with a strong resolve.
Do you know what that resolve was? Of course you don't.
This is the only thing I never told to even my notebooks. But now, as I'm reminded of it in my insomniac haze, after three years of holding it firmly in my subconscious, I'll tell you. It's time that I did.
Because as I looked at your eyes coming down that hill, I knew I'd never break it- ever.
I resolved that I would never touch you, ask or accept any kindness of yours, and never intentionally cause you mental or physical harm.
I wanted to be your friend but didn't at the same time back then.
And by this resolution I'd win, on my own terms.
I wanted to win on my own but you cheated- you let me win like you did at the chess tournament. I made a stupid mistake in the end but you let me defeat you anyway. Don't you see? I'm writing to you now only because you asked me to continue! I tried to stop but you wrote me. You asked... By default I've always been accepting your kindness... your compliments. I'm a friend to you right now but at the same time I'm nothing but a stranger writing letters! You broke the resolve but I was a simpleton to blindly let you.
I've won, sure.
But I've lost. I've lost since the beginning.