Dear Simon:

I wrote a little something yesterday, with every intention to blog, but I didn't, in the faith that today, I shall need your company much more than yesterday. And indeed so.

Its been 6 long years Simon, and I haven't forgotten one bit. I don't expect I'll ever forget, nor would I expect to have a reminder of any sort. My mood is even more depressed than since I last saw you. I have been told, my demeanor betrays me, but my proud self would never humble to confide. It is no matter, my self-assertion regained. I am no church-goer, and yet I have been regularly going to church. I am no orator, and yet I have much to say. I am no optimist, and yet I wish only the best. My nights have been sleepless, and my days, restful, and I can scarcely see the time pass. My stubborness does not permit me to grieve, and yet I feel remorse somehow. It pains, to see the night foggy, and the moon unlit, and, though cruel, my own light-heartedness. No one, I believe, is more of a thickheaded fool than I am, and possessing such arrogance at that, but I can firmly say that my penitence is real. I am unlike them, and them, and them, then who am I like?

I have ceased to be colloquial in my own thoughts, influenced by the likes of Emma and Holmes, but not to say that I have turned archaic overnight. I have once said, and I say again, that my thoughts are incoherently thrown together, and form sentences of their own, that someone without the same trail of thoughts may not be able to follow. But it is easy to read.

Call me selfish and jealous, Simon, but the sacrifice, I do regret, a little. My choice is presumably a destined one. Hopefully it will bear fruit one day. And if not, no matter. I have time for other matters.

Lil is, though, no longer annoying me, but she is still not a being. I know you will watch me, I know he will watch me, I know they will watch me, as I struggle for success. Ultimately, I shall have to prove, maybe not to you, my dear Simon, but to you, my dear Michelle, who emcompasses all that Lil was, is, and ever will be.

How do I feel now? I don't know. Simon, you are wiser than I am. Perhaps I need a shoulder to cry on, a call from a friend, a good rest, and such. Perhaps.

Tomorrow is a long day, where I shall be expected to be present and gay at 8.30am, and maintain focus all throughout until 5pm. It is all worth it, if we enjoy our moments on stage. In Crescent debates, even, we have been taught that the outcome doesn't matter. Indeed, if everyone thought that way.

But for now, I must really go. I lied to Momo, on the pretext that I would be busy preparing for bed an hour ago. It is thankful that I have neither a Facebook account or a Twitter account to be tracked, and Simon, you are unknown to most, and even so, I do not fear your involvement in the matter. But before I go, Simon dear, I know you expect something. I'm afraid your new skin will have to be delayed, for there are some imperfections and the trouble with the resolution from my dad's computer is too terrible for me to judge anything. So I shall wait, until I get my new Fujitsu, and when everything is downloaded and settled, I shall renew you.

Happy Birthday, my dear Simon.