The Letter

Rated: T

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Geliebter,

I’m unsure of what to do anymore. I’m unsure of myself. Who am I now? The question turns in my head like a carousel and it’s going so fast I can’t seem to get off. It’s endless, this misery; this uncertainty; this waiting.

What is this that we have here, between you and me? Is there anything at all? I’m no longer sure anymore.

I’m unsure of you, now, too. Sometimes I feel as though you do things on purpose simply to keep me in the dark, to keep me on my toes. I’m always sitting on the fence with you, wondering onto which side I will fall this time.

I’ll admit it was interesting at first. It drew me in further. I took it as a challenge and as a facet of a relationship with someone so much more mature than me. But I have grown tired of this game after so many years. It’d be easier to continue on playing if I knew for certain there was an obtainable victory in the future.

However, as of right now, I see none. I can only see myself repeating the same moves over and over again, and you yourself doing the same.

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