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Lance, this entry is dedicated to you and is for your viewing and yours alone.

I love you. I have always loved you. I have never hidden it, I have never hesitated in declaring it, and I have never faltered in trying to show you the way that I feel about you. I am not as eloquent with words as you are, but I will try my best to put this down.

Throughout our relationship, there were pitfalls. You hurt me, and I hurt you, and it seemed to be a never-ending cycle. Particularly here in college, I have taken actions that were irrational and selfish. No words that I have obtained could possibly express my regret in hurting the one that meant the most to me, and nothing I could have done could be enough to right my wrongs. Saying sorry fixes nothing, but it is the first step in attempting to start anew, to build up a new foundation to make something stronger and more grand than it once was. It is something that I am working on and shall continue to work on.

Throughout our relationship, you were always there for me. There to hold me; to wipe away my tears, to make me smile. I however, never felt that I could do the same for you. You held me at an amicable distance, though, admittedly, allowing me closer than most. Yet, I wanted more. I could not be satisfied with what you gave me because I truly wanted to become a part of you the way you have become a part of me. I kept pushing, talking, nagging, 'lecturing', as you put it-every and anything, to try and influence you the way that I felt you had influenced me. In doing so, however, I forget that you are not like me. I forgot the very thing that attracted me to you in the first place, the means that was to justify my end, and in doing so irrevocably pushed you farther away from me. There were times when you told me you no longer wanted to be with me. What was I to do then? I panicked and raged and cried.

In separating from you, I felt I would have a chance to reevaluate. Not just our relationship, but everything I'd done a little before that and up to it, to see what I had been and what I'd become, to check over my mistakes and fix them, to become a better person for you. The separation was more about me that it was or is you. I want to make you happy. I want to be yours with all my heart. I love you and I want to be with you. Right now, I am not that person and am not capable of being so. I'm tired of hurting you. I am tired of shoving apology after empty apology on a platter in your face because of actions I took without thinking. This is no longer high school, and the situation has become slightly more complicated. What I did back then could not possibly suffice or last in the long term. I don't want to be a passing fancy to you, Lance. I want to be with you always. I want to be your one and only, someone you can look at without hinderance; without disgust; without sadness; without confusion; without pain. When you look at me I want to see no more than affection in your eyes; when you hold me I want to feel nothing other than love. I am trying to make this my second chance, to start over from scratch. I want to be the person you fell in love with again. Allow me at least that. If you don't want me to bother, then say so, but please, please, please, please at least give me that much-that one chance to love you and be loved by you.

I am not finished but my fingers are cramped. I will write again at another time.


I love you, Lance.