Dear Anon,

******* for running away. I've waited so long under the tree, when the moon was waxing and waning, and when it was full. The flower's stem cloistered in palm tried to hide the growing anxiety that engulfed me as minutes became a long procession of hours.

That was the night when you ran away with the director. And I was there - I stayed there, and still loved you the morning after.

I guess, you will forever occupy a largest portion in my mind. That no matter what I do, I will not be able to shake off the memory of you running away and of me, waiting.

And just so you know, *****, I'm still waiting.
Even now.


*Barbons