When i shop at stores that sell antiques i sometimes come across old diaries and piles of old letters...its so sad to read these old items from the 1800's...the people write about their thoughts and feelings...their worries...their hopes...their fears...and their loves. To me it's like they're my friends and i get a strange empty scary feeling when i realize that all of them are long dead...only bones and dust. Sometimes there are even old photographs of the authors...and i look into their eyes...and wonder what might have been...
What might have been had i been born decades ago?...if i had known these long forgotten people...if i had held them close to me...
My name would be set out in their letters...maybe my photograph would be pasted in their diaries...faded...brittle...cracked. And it would be you...you reading about me...you looking at my picture...and you wondering what might have been...
Travel through time to me...come to me...kiss me and hold me tight before i spiral away into the dust bin of history.
love from,
tara
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