Dear Reader,

My mind ran off on you the other day, you, the stranger reading these words. I speak to you with familiarity, like we're close friends because in a way we are. We are connected by heartache, forged together by the heartbreak. I don't even know why I even bother at times, afraid that you'll overlook this note altogether, or maybe we're here together, this moment resonating with the both of us. I don't know why the midnight moon chose us to be restless under a weary sky, and I don't get how the both of us could be so kind to people who would only end up hurting our hearts. I was much younger when it began, but it got old fast. I continued fighting for something that they were unwilling to give, but I gave in hopes of changing their minds, and maybe we're just alike because of that one thing. The way we are eager to provide despite the other person's inability to reciprocate. Perhaps you're there now, maybe you're experiencing a breaking in your heart, but something in me knows that you will overcome it. I mastered seas of struggle and pain, swimming to a shore made of myself, and that's how you'll get through. You'll read these words, and you'll know that I was talking to you, and then you'll do what needs to be done, you will find a way back to yourself. Say this to yourself out loud...." I can, and I will make it over this mountain of hurt. " Thank you for fucking with my words and allowing me space and time to express this to you. These words are my only way of communicating with you whenever I feel that it's time to connect. Now, go, be great. Be everything you know yourself to be. It's time to move forward. It's time to heal. It's time to be loved the way you deserve to be loved.

Sincerely, r.h. Sin