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| Why Can't It Be? |
| by Sandrah |
Dear Sportsman,
This letter is prompted by the noblest of impulses so don't misunderstand the noble mission it is going to convey.
When I met you, as if by a God-sent blessing, I thought that I saw a light of soft understanding. What had come over me? I was not like this before. Yes before I met you, I lived a peaceful life. I could go and return home and feel no trouble. But now, I am disturbed mind and soul.
It cannot be my imagination or is it that love has struck too deeply and that I must pay sacrifice for what is asked of me? I have tried to restrain myself. I have tried to stifle my longings knowing that I am not even fit to grace your side. But Cupid's orders are imperative. Who am I to battle the call of fate? I know that when I saw you, Cupid had marked me for his victim. Yes, it is love that has taken root in my heart. But I have been so foolish to hug delusions to my heart. I should not have persisted even when I saw the shadow of your winsome smile.
Let me console myself that I have loved you in name only, a way that lingers only in imagination, in a mere dreams, in fantasy, the creation of mind. Here I am still longing for your attention. I love you!
Always take care...,
Sandrah |
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