All my love...Stevie.

I have never done anything extraordinary with my life. A good student, through out my school life, but never the most intelligent, a good painter, but not much of a Picasso. A good friend, but most of the time slightly selfish, putting my needs first. All in all, a fairly average kind of man, as I did what every young man would do.

The only thing I may have done extravagantly is love another with all my heart. There’s not a word I would hear said against her not a thought in my head filled with hate for either of them.

Maybe it is because every time I think of her I still think of her with the incredulous thoughts of first love. Still, even after 20 long years.

Looking around myself, it’s sad to see how much I never got over Chelsea. The rooms of this house are decorated exactly the same as the rooms in my last. Replicas of every piece of furniture stand in exactly the same place. The picture frames around the room are all empty as no memory could sit in those frames and bring the same flood of happiness in which the old ones did. It would be fair to say I’m obsessed, but as far as I am concerned love holds no rationality, and needs no justification. It only becomes more confused as each long day goes past. The confusion being that even though she did what she did, even though she hurt me in such ways, I can not stop loving her more so each day.

It kills me not to know her now. But it keeps me alive to know this is what she wanted. To know she is with someone that will make her feel the way I feel about her. To make her happy in a way I was unable to.



Author note:
They'll get longer...eventually.