When one writes, she is inevitably writing to/for someone.  This someone can be real – a family member, a friend, a lover.  It can also be imaginary, we all did have imaginary friends at some point, didn’t we?  Well, at least I did.  She made my loney younger years bearable, along with books and music. 

Now I write to/for this special human being, he knows who he is.  He adds music to my life, if you know what I mean.  He makes me feel comfortable at being who I am.  He would try his best to cheer me up when I am down.  He makes me feel loved every day.  He makes all those suffering and stress worthwhile.  He is great.

But being a woman, I have to be neurotic from time to time.  When this happens, I can be as depressing as hell.  I become needy.  I want hear him say “I love you” but still that’s not enough.  The truth is, I just want to be with him.  When I am in his arms, I am in heaven.  All the troubles disappear, the musical in my world is the cheesiest Frank Sinatra.  The world is perfect. 

Here is to you, my dear reader.  I hope this neurotic episode will end soon.        

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