Dear Mister Misery,

You know who you are. I'm sorry for the way you treat yourself sometimes in relation to the world. I know you don't think highly of it, and maybe you have good reason for that. But it makes me feel sorry to think that you'd be different if we had met sooner.

You've told me why. Some of the reasons we're meeting now, at this point on this plane of existence. But currently I am forced to wonder if that's all there is to it. You've brought me out of slumber with a metaphoric kiss. But maybe I'm supposed to save you, too. Perhaps as you're showing me a path I hadn't considered, I'm supposed to lead you and teach you.

You and I are almost star-crossed. But I've found a lover and he suits me well. I could list all the ways in which he fits me, but I feel that would be too cruel. To wit, you have found a place within my heart and I'm not sure what to call it. This force is filled too full of immense emotion which, though you often scoff at it, do make tidal waves of change.

A small word, a soft whisper, and my heart beats. Before you so rudely interrupted with bitter words against the human heart, I was going to tell you tales of when I've been wooed. I often get the urge to tell you such things, but you crush my nerve with a careless comment. You should be more open to other ways of thought and feeling.

Lastly, I've so much more to explain and impart, if only you'd put up your ego. I am not angry, just a little disappointed you cannot be the full-flown romantic I find myself to be. Maybe we aren't so similar afterall. But we shall see down the road, won't we?

In Earnest,
Miss Madness