Day SixtyNine: The Boredom Again

Today, well, I tried writting a letter to you.  I really feel like writing to you, but as soon as my hand holds the pen, my brain just stop. The only words I could write was a “How are you?”, and the only thing I was to write over and over again was a “I love you”. That isn’t much of a letter isn’t it.

I don’t know how many sheets of paper have I wasted, trying to pen an interesting letter that consists of more topics that “I miss you” and “I love you”.

That’s worrying actually. If I can’t talk to you on a piece of letter, how are we ever going to survive talking like we used to when you’re out? I could see myself not telling you things, not because I want to, but because I had gotten used to it. You won’t be the first one I look forward to in the mornings, the first person I’ll think of in any situations.

Please tell me I’m wrong. I’m expecting all this in four months, and since God is always SO good at making me feel disappointed, I hope I’m wrong this time.

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