Reintroduction

Anytime I write I am always writing with one person in mind. And nothing scares me more than that one person finding out that I am writing for them. But I like being scared. So whenever there is a person I care enough to write about, I find myself returning to this journal, posting, hoping the person I wrote the entry for reads it. But the hope ends there. I never want them to know it is an open letter to them. Because then I am scared what they will think. That they will be scared of how hard I feel, of what I feel, be it hate or love, fear or hope.

But no more looking back about how I have written. Only foward. From now on, I write no longer to one person. It is too hard to constantly change your target person, to adjust to what you want to write, to what people want to hear. From now on, I write for myself. These are the things I want to say. These are the things that the world has given me, that I have processed inside, and spit back out. You are going to be a part of them, because you are a part of the world. But I no longer want people to assume - "when he says love, is he talking about me?" - these are no longer assumptions I am going to care about. I'm not going to use names, I'm going to keep identities hidden, because they are hidden to me. I am no longer writing with one person in mind. I am combining everything that has been given to me. So if you want to assume that you are the person I am speaking to; that you are the one that won my heart, that inspired my words, that you are indeed the 'you' that i speak of; then go ahead and assume that. Because you aren't wrong. I am writing to the world. So when you see something I write that connects to you, be happy. Because you are part of the world.

Why this sudden change of pace? Why the loss of hidden meanings and attempts to impress and attract and signify? Because I've found that truth doesn't exist. The only thing that exists for me are stories. And I just want to write these stories down. They are stories about you. About me. About him. About her. About us. They are in the first person, the last person. They cross all ages, experiences, even genders. They contain pieces of everything and I can't even begin to try to understand where they come from. My life has become too complex.

Welcome reader. Before we continue, we must undergo a test. Remember, the goal from here on is for me to no longer write to 'one person', and for the people that formerly occupied that role as the 'one person' to accept their role as no longer being the focus of my stories. So this test is comprised of three words. The only story that I can think of today. I don't know if I said them, if I thought of them, if they were told to me, if I overheard them, if I discovered them, if I made them up, if I found them, if they are truth, or lies, or if they mean something or if they don't, who they are to, who they are from. I no longer have the patience or time to worry about these things any more. All I know is that they, in their entirety, make up the story I want to tell today. They are the chorus playing in my mind, the movie spinning in my eyes, the lines that are encircling my heart, they are the best place to begin. They are, as follows, with a little grammar adjustment and spell checking:

I love you.