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an open letter.

pidyn cox. you know i love that name. and as i sit in my room listening to R.E.M's imitation of life play on, i was compelled to write you something. a simple message that requires no response.

you know your heart has been moved when you start worrying about the possibility that the one you've grown so fond of might actually find someone better and skip off into the sunshine leaving you behind. it's even more worrying when it is I, starting to think such thoughts. truth be told, as i lay sprawled on my bed blasting my itunes at its loudest, all that my mind was preoccupied with, was the thought of having to know that you've finally moved on. and that is a good thing i guess, because part of me wants to know that you've found the closure you needed to take the next step forward. yet part of me wants to deny such a possibility because the selfish and reluctant heart refuses to acknowledge departure.

but yes, should the day come, i know that only then, would it signify the end. till that day comes, let me indulge in the happiness of last friday, as we lay in bed together without a care for the world, ignoring seminars and lectures and whatever was thrown our way. all we had was that intimate moment shared between the two of us - a lazy afternoon spent in each other's arms as we slipped in and out of slumber and persistent snores. spooning and resting my head on your chest as i felt it go up and down, resisting the urge to touch those untouchable ears of yours.

and the memory of last thursday when we both jumped out of bed and rushed about campus submitting our essays and finally settling down for lunch before heading off to lectures together. who could forget the 'innocent' flirting texts we sent and looks shot at each other from across the lecture theatre. those were times i can only look back upon. i remember sending you a text saying 'stop being so irresistibly distracting pidyn cox', and that's how i'll remember you. the curls and the name i gave you that means penis in welsh.

itunes is playing 'time of your life' by green day. you said it made you think of college. it's making me think of you now. and as i struggle with writing my ridiculous essay, my mind has drafted an incredible fable where you actually knock on my room door and then walk in with that cheeky grin of yours plastered across your face, while i sit in my chair stunned and in disbelief. it's but a dream and reality stinks, but essays-induced delusions are always permitted.

“an open letter.”